


Remember Darkness

by neverending_shenanigans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: A shitton of long ANs, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Character Death, Darcy Lewis-centric, Darcyland, F/M, Fake Character Death, I Blame Tumblr, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Skips, child!Darcy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:19:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 74,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_shenanigans/pseuds/neverending_shenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would crush Star Fleet's Headquarters, would rip the head of the Snake. They brought his legacy of war upon them. They had woken him to bring war after all, and now they would get the cleansing war. / A Story of the awakening of Khan and the story of the girl in whose hands he put it. / DarcyxKhan, known as AugmentTaser. For barnebucky and usedkarma. Originally posted on fanfiction.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [usedkarma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedkarma/gifts), [barnebucky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=barnebucky).



##  Prologue

* * *

 

_[This is what I brought you this you can keep,_

_This is what I brought you may forget me._

_I promise to depart just promise one thing,_

_Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep]._

_Prelude 12/21 – AFI_

* * *

 

_2259, London_

Commander Phil Coulson watches his little girl in the hospital bed struggling with every inhale. He wants to reach out and stroke her brown curls, but he is afraid to touch her these days. She looks fragile on those white sheets. More fragile than this particular eight year old girl should look. Just like her mother she is a lively spirit. When she gets interested in things her enthusiasm knows no boundaries, just like her optimism. And she's a fighter, this one. When she was diagnosed with this terminal sickness she smiled at him and told him not to believe a word the doctors said. She wouldn't die, she had promised, two days before falling in that coma.

He remembers that her mother had made the same promise. Doctor Deborah Carter-Hampton had been with him, serving on the _USS Vanguard_ under Admiral Fury’s command for ten years. She's always been a loyal soul, a free spirit. He remembers when she had died in his arms in the hospital after a mission one year ago. Her final words had come from smiling lips, apologizing that she had been unable to keep her promise to stay by his side. Asking him to take care of her daughter. And now he has failed her. Darcy would die, and with her a part of him would die.

Coulson buries his face in his hands for a moment, unsure of what to do. Admiral Fury had given him time off-duty so he could be with her, but every passing day she grows weaker, and it becomes more unbearable by the minute to watch her lie there, dying a slow and painful death.

He feels a hand softly touching his right shoulder and he looks up. Maria is standing behind him, looking at Darcy's frail form. He, too, returns his gaze to her. The many tubes look so wrong on her. They seem to suck the life from her, instead of helping. And the worse she gets the more tubes get added. The only thing that still looks like her is the chain wrapped thrice around her left wrist. The pendant used to be her mothers, and she insisted to not be separated from it.

Maria walks over to Darcy's other side, carefully touching her hand, slipping her fingers into it and caressing the palm with her thumb. She always does that when she comes here, first thing, as if she needs to feel the pulse herself, not trusting the many machines. Commander Maria Hill was a friend of Deborah's from Star Fleet Academy. They lost touch as they grew older, but at her memorial Maria showed up again, looking for Darcy. She cares for the little girl, maybe as much as he does. "Her condition is unchanged, I take it."

Coulson nods, taking in Maria's appearance. She has dark circles under her eyes, she’s pale and looks drained. It is a bit like looking in a mirror. It's the same way he looks these days. "You should go home tonight. Get some rest. The doctor's don't think that tonight will be her … tonight won't be _the_ night."

Maria's stare is cold, and he almost expects her to scowl at him. "If I need rest so do you. Don't protect me, Coulson. I can handle this. I need to be here, just as much as you. And you need to go. I know you want to."

It feels wrong to admit to wanting anything but sitting at Darcy's side, but it would be an insult to both their intelligences to deny that Maria is right with what she says. Fury had given him off, but Admiral Marcus isn't an understanding person. His work at the Kelvin Memorial is … delicate. He cannot afford even slight changes in his schedule. For a moment Coulson merely rubs the bride of his nose, before he nods. "You're right. I apologize. I should get going."

He gets up from his chair, pausing at Darcy's side. Carefully he reaches out for her face. He is almost surprised to find his hand shaking slightly, as he brushes away one of her dark locks. For a second he imagines to see her eyelids flutter at the contact. He wishes it would be so, wishes to look into her blue-green eyes and see the bright, happy sparkle in them that always lit them up. But there was no flutter, and he puts both of his hands in his pockets. Maria acts like she had not seen it. She just keeps standing where she is, holding unto Darcy's small hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Coulson nods, and makes haste to leave the room. A part of him feels like screaming at the injustice, a part of him feels like breaking down. He had done both, and neither had helped, not even just in releasing his own tension. So he keeps it in, nods a greeting at the doctors and nurses of the Royal Children's Hospital that know him by now. He pretends not to see the pity in their eyes as he passes by them, leaving the hospital. He is too much in a hurry to notice the dark-cloaked man before he steps up behind him. "I can save her."

Coulson turns, impatient and confused, looking at the unfamiliar, pale face. The words of the man cut through the fog of pain, worry and weariness in his mind. "Excuse me, what did you say?" He tries to remember if that man is of the hospital staff, if he has seen him anywhere before. He looks hauntingly familiar.

"The girl. Darcy Lewis. I can save her." The words stop every thinking on his part, and Coulson has to fight to not give in to even the remotest spark of hope.

"Who are you?"

A small, humourless smile plays on the man’s pale lips. "You should know." And then he makes a step forward, lowering his voice marginally. There is a hard edge to his voice. "Her mother was the one who gave me this face."

And Coulson remembers. He remembers that mission of the Vanguard where they found it. The _Botany Bay_. He remembers the man they found, remembers that Deborah had been among the Doctors who had been in the lab when they had taken the face, voice and memories away from the criminal and turned him into this. She had talked about it with him, frustrated by the choices of the Admiral, but always so loyal. And he remembers the name they gave him. "John Harrison," he all but whispers, but what he thinks is this mans true name. _Khan._


	2. Chapter 1

##  Chapter 1

* * *

 

_[So young, so brazen, so unholy_ __  
_I come to you in painted skies_  
 _You're broken saint, your ancient story_  
 _The living challenge to their lies]_

_Last of my Kind – Alice in Chains_

* * *

 

_2258, London_

There is darkness when he wakes up and tries to open his eyes. Darkness, and a high-pitched, screeching sound he can't identify. Then, for a disorientated second there is seething anger, despair and unbearable pain in him.

But after a split second it seems like it was just a flicker, vanishing into lingering ghosts of emotions. He tries to grasp them, tries to remember. But the thing that reaches out for him is the pain, and it is not only in his heart, nor in his ears from this unbearable sound. It is in his skin, itching in the darkness, tense to the point that he believes it will tear. And it is in his muscles, in his bones.

The pain seems to overwhelm him, seems to make up every fibre of his being, making it impossible to focus, to focus on anything, anything but the pain; the pain of feeling his internal organs cramp, convulsing, rebelling and trying to dislodge his bones through his flesh and skin, trying to break free, break through. He wants to cry, groan, make room for his agony – agony that seems like a ghost, misplaced, not his own, not because of _this_ , not _physical_ – but his voice fails him.

He hears a different voice though, through the fog clinging over his consciousness. "He is waking up. It worked. Do you see those _vitals?_ " And another voice, too high, hurting and penetrating his ears with this screeching sound again. "Get the Doctor already, you bloody idiot."

He hears more sounds, many, and above them something loud. A signal. A signal his mind processes, can understand. Alarm. He recognizes it, clings to it, knows it's familiar. The sound overshadows the others, the high pitched one that comes in a quicker pace now, and he feels relief, because his mind tells him that he knows what this means, he knows what to do. He tries to sit up in the darkness, despite the darkness, into the darkness, but he is not sure if he moves at all. The one thing he knows is that the pain is multiplied.

And then there is coolness on his wrist. His nerves tingle and there is a deep sound, rumbling, from within him. He realizes it's his voice. Wrong, his mind supplies for a split second, and then it is gone, and he is focused on the coolness and the alarm again. "John, can you hear me?" He groans again, hears himself groaning, and the sound distracts, confuses. The coolness moves to his forehead, he feels his eyelids being pried open – he knows they are, he recognized the coolness as fingers now, as nails barely scratch his burning skin – but the darkness remains. "Jessica, enhance the dose."

The voice is almost at his ear, a different one. "He… shouldn't be feeling pain, doctor…?" The voice is too close. He wants to distance himself. He wants to move. The pain tears at him.

"Double it. We'll see what's gone wrong later. Right now he's clearly in pain and I won't _allow anyone_ to be in pain on my watch." The coolness leaves his forehead, moves to his throat, just beneath his jaw and his ear, applying pressure. He know that this means that they'll kill him now. Choke him. Only he doesn't know what for. He doesn't know who they are. His head feels like an axe is trying to press through his skull. And then the voice speaks up again. "John, don't panic. Hang in there. We'll take care of you. The pain will ease up any moment now."

She is talking to him, he realises. John. That's him. That's him? It's him. He looses his grip on the pain. The ghost of despair is the last thing he is aware of as he falls into the darkness again.

The next time he wakes up, there is light. It hurts his eyes as he opens them, and he raises his hand to shield him from the burning whiteness. He feels disorientated, feels like he is falling for a second and like there is a heavy weight pressing him down the next. And then there is her voice again. "John? How are you feeling?"

He turns his head, opening his eyes again. He needs to see the woman. Catches a glimpse of brown hair, brown eyes and a white coat before the light becomes unbearable and his lids close to protect him. His mind puts the pieces together, achingly slow, and then provides a name that sounds alien in his own thoughts. Doctor Deborah Carter-Hampton.

He wants to try it on his tongue. "Deborah…," is all he manages. He tries to place the alien feeling, pinning it down. But as he says the name the vague feeling seems to fade. She is familiar. They serve together. She is a friend. He remembers her. Her cold fingertips touch his wrist, and he looks at her again. Remembers her question. Tests his voice. "No pain."

She nods, and he is fixated on the movement of her ponytail as she turns her head in a different direction, nodding again to someone he can't see, before looking back to him. A few strands of her brown locks fall over her shoulder. He has seen this before. His mind supplies more memories of her. In a canteen, sitting across form him. In a library. In a lab. On a spaceship.

"That's good to hear. Everyone was worried for you." She looks at the holographic pad in her hand. A picture fills it at one side, numbers he can't make out on the other. The picture has a name next to it. John Harrison. The picture is the picture of a face. A face of a man with short, black hair and blue-green eyes. Pale. His mind supplies that it's his face, but there is doubt. Doubt that he remembers it correctly.

He looks up at her again. He feels pressure on his head. He tries to grasp for what she said, distract himself from the pain. "Everyone," he echoes. She looks up at him. There is a smile now, but it doesn't reach her brown eyes.

"Well, … some more than others, obviously." When he doesn't reply her smile falters, her expression guarded. She looks over her shoulder again, as she speaks. "Admiral Marcus wants to talk to you. If you are in no pain, I'll send someone for him…" Her stare is intense. He feels like she is looking for something in that pause. He doesn't know what it is. He feels something rise in him that he can't grasp. He shakes his head. And she smiles again. It is forced, he recognizes now. That is why it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Well, then I'll send a nurse to help you get dressed. Take it easy and don't hesitate to let someone know the _second_ you feel pain, alright?" He nods, looking down at himself for the first time now. His lower half is covered by a white sheet, his upper half is bare. There are red points and cables sticking to white dots on his chest. He doesn't look up as she turns around and leaves the room. He carefully recalls her words. Admiral Marcus. He identifies the feeling from before. It is anger, burning like acid, but still it doesn't feel complete. He can't trace back where the anger comes from. His mind is empty.

 

* * *

 

 

When Deborah comes home late from the hospital she usually just wants to go straight up to Darcy's room and see if she's alright. Tonight, though, Darcy is asleep on the couch, with her head in Phil's lap, while he is watching the end of a children's movie. Debby smiles, while she puts her brown trench coat on the hook beside the door. Then she whistles, lowly, and Phil looks up at her, smiling.

With a few quiet gestures Phil suggests that she goes to the kitchen and make something to eat while he carries Darcy upstairs, in her bedroom and tugs her in. She's more than happy with this. Like usually, she hasn't had the time to eat today.

When Phil returns she's leaning against the counter with the rest of the Pizza from yesterday and a glass wine, munching away happily. He positions himself in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. "Rough day at work?"

She gives him that blank look, as if she was trying to say 'Don't I always?'. It's all the reply he gets, before she turns around to hold the second glass of wine out for him. "And what have you been up to all day?"

He shrugs, walking over to her and taking the glass from her hand. And the rest of the pizza, which he takes a bite from before answering. "Nothing unusual. I had a small disagreement with your friend Maria today. We don't see eye to eye on the new idea for a team Admiral Fury is trying to promote and she got a bit vocal about it." Debby knows Phil long enough to know that it annoys him when people question Fury. He is almost devoted to the guy. He would trust him with his life, and when people doubt Fury it gets to him, even more so as when those people would have doubted Phil himself.

Debby also knows that Fury can sometimes be a bit of a Blade Runner, as she likes to call it. Always looking for Loopholes in the firm rule set of Star Fleet, messing in the margins, the grey zones. That just makes a person suspicious. And not everyone knows him as well as Coulson does. Especially not Maria, who was big on loyalty, but not that big on blind trust. Still, she counts both of them as people dear to her, and she refuses to take sides. Even though it has been a while since she last has seen Maria. She reminds herself that she should maybe change that. For now, she changes the topic. "Talking about vocal. Did Darcy go to her singing lessons today?"

Phil smiles with a hint of mischief. "Well, I picked her up in front of the building again. I can't be sure that she went there straight after school, though. And judging from the state of her uniform… I wouldn't bet on it."

Deborah sighs, taking a sip from her wine. "This kid will be the end of me some day. I don't get her fascination with the park and climbing trees. She doesn't have that from me." Phil has emptied his glass and sets it down, putting a hand on Debbie's shoulder, motioning for her to turn around, which she does happily. He starts to knead the knots out of them, slowly and with practiced movements.

"Well, no, she obviously has that from her father. David was a biologist after all, you shouldn't be too surprised. Maybe you should just let her drop those lessons. No need to keep paying for something she doesn't like either way."

Debby groans at words that are way too familiar. "She persuaded you to say this, didn't she? You got to the dark side, Phil! You traitor."

He chuckles a bit at that. "I'm only being logical here, Debby."

She gulps down the rest of her wine and he lowers his hands again, putting them in the pockets of his pants. "Whatever you say, Phil. I'll give it some thought." Then she turns around, opening her moth as if to say something. The smile drops from her face, though, when the beeper in the pants of her pockets goes off the same moment. She pulls it out, frowning at the message. "Oh, shoot. I have to get back to the hospital."

He takes her empty glass from her. "A patient?"

She pauses shortly, before she goes to grab her coat. It's just good that she didn't immediately head for the bathroom after coming home, to take that shower she desperately needs. "Yes. Patient 73, to be precise."

Coulson frowns, trying to remember why this rings bells for him. "Wait, patient… 73… the Vanguard-Mission?"

She nods. "Yes. He woke up today, but we're not sure yet if he's stable. There are some problems with his metabolism, and …," She pauses for a second, and he sees something in her eyes that he hasn't seen thee in a while. Not since David died. He sees fear. "… You know what? I'll tell you when I get back. I want your opinion on this anyway. Will you stay a little bit longer?"

He nods, with a glance on the clock. He owns the flat just opposite of Deborah's, but he lives here half of the time anyway. And he can't just leave Darcy alone now, can he? He's her unofficial godfather, after all. Deborah smiles at him, half-whispers half-yells a thanks his way, before she leaves the flat in a hurry.

There is silence after the doors closes, and Phil stays in the kitchen for a moment, remembering what he knows about Patient 73. He was there when they found him, found all the 80 Augments that were now guarded by the Star Fleet like the explosives they were. Trained, enhanced and brutal super soldiers put to sleep many hundreds of years ago.

He has clearance on this, though he is not directly involved. His work for Section 31, the black ops, is very limited. Admiral Marcus doesn't trust him, calls him Fury’s dog. And he is right there. Coulson wouldn't trust himself either if he were in Marcus' position. Especially if he were to try and use the Augments for his own good. The Admiral thinks Phil doesn't know what's going on, thinks he just guards the Section like he is told to.

But the Admiral has always had this slight bit of megalomania in him, thinking that he can hide his work from the rest of the Star Fleet. That he doesn't have to explain himself to anyone. He underestimates all other Admirals that way, treating them like blind sheep.

And he clearly underestimates Deborah. While he suspects Phil to secretly work for Fury, he doesn't expect Deborah to betray his trust. But Deborah was the one who came to Phil about this, telling him that she is uncomfortable with what she thinks Marcus' might be doing. The lovely, loyal Deborah, who had never wanted any part in politics, schemes, backstabbing and spying. It says something if a woman like her is willing to go behind her superiors back.

They need proof, though. It's too soon to do anything about this yet. Despite what Commander Hill thinks, they can't just waltz into the hospital and take Khan, take Marcus, and "bring them to justice". They need proof. And Fury is with him on this.

 

* * *

 

 

He remembers. First he remembers small things, like sitting in the canteen with Deborah, discussing a book she had recommended to him. Then he remembers meeting up with his colleague Thomas in a bar. Thomas, whom he remembers to be a friend of his, back from his days at London School of Economics. He remembers Molly, whom he met while working in the Starfleet Data Archive. Molly, who also happens to be his girlfriend of three years, who loves old movies, hot chocolate and detective stories.

Its just small bits and pieces, but its enough to have the new doctors he's been assigned to –a woman named Sutherland and a man named Gilmore - in a state of giddy happiness. They said it would be like this, that the world would be alien for a while to him. That happens to people who fall in a coma while recovering from a mild amnesia. Because that is, among other things, what has happened after the accident during a failed mission to Qo'nos. He's fallen into a coma and is now slowly recovering from memory loss. Or so he's been told.

When he looks into the mirror, he still has trouble to identify the face as his own. He has trouble reacting to the name – his name – 'John Harrison'. When they show him a picture of his late parents, of Richard and Sara Harrison, he feels nothing.

There is darkness in his mind and his heart, and it's not going away. It's just glimpses, small holes in his mind he falls back to, but it keeps him on edge, and he has a feeling that it's eating him up from inside. As if a part of him knows that beyond the darkness there is something in him that is important, and that he has forgotten.

When he is allowed to move back in with Molly she seems to notice. She tells him he's being weird, asks him if he feels unwell, if he wants to go back to the hospital just to be sure. That is the last thing he wants. He doesn't want to be back on medication. So he stays quiet. Waits to see if his memory will return to him fully.

But there isn't much to wait for. He grows restless, and the darkness in him is more pressing when he does nothing. And he is healthy, otherwise. So he gets back to work. He is reassigned a special mission. Admiral Marcus says he's been assigned before his accident and that he agreed to advise Section 31. A Section that is doing Secret Security Work that he is not to talk about. He told him as much, showed him the contract the day he comes to the hospital, reminds him of the duty that he accepted and asks him if he is still willing to shoulder it.

So that is what he does. He goes to work, every day, like the person he feels he should be but not quite is. And he goes home to Molly, to eat dinner, to argue about her latest obsession with a detective series, to take her for a walk in the park. A couple of times he meets up with Thomas. And he has weekly check ups with Sutherland and Gilmore.

In the beginning it was Deborah who did the check-ups, but when his condition was stable that changed, and he got re-assigned. He still sees her in Section 31. She works there. Where he works on the weapons, she works on an improvement of the medical ward. And sometimes she drops by, with a coffee or tea for him, reminding him that he needs to take breaks.

She is one of the few light spots in his memories, she is one of the few straws he can grasp, so he is thankful for that. Though he wonders what part of her he might have forgotten. What part of her it is that sometimes causes the guarded, distant or sad expression on her face when she thinks he doesn't notice that she's staring at him.

He asks Thomas, when he remembers that Thomas and Deborah know each other, too. Thomas seems surprised at this, and then he does it, too. He smiles at him, without actually smiling. "I think our cute little Debby might have a crush on you. Who would have thought?"

And he thinks about it, but he knows that it's not that. The way she looks at him is not the way Molly looks at him. There is… fear. And maybe guilt. And he just isn't sure. And he thinks that Thomas knows that as well, but maybe he doesn't want to know. What he knows is that Thomas is quick to change the subject back to that tennis game he watched the other day.

So he asks his Doctors why he was re-assigned to them. And Emma Sutherland just shrugs and says that those were orders from up high, that it was not Doctor Carter-Hampton's choice. He shouldn't take it personally, she says, and winks at him. And Gilmore, whom John decidedly doesn't like because he feels like the man is always giving him a once-over, says that Admiral Marcus himself gave the order, and rumour has it that he thought Doctor Carter-Hampton was getting too personally involved.

So he asks her himself. He is tired of having to ask people to tell him things, but he is more tired of the darkness in his memory. And he wants to know why she would look at him like that. He asks her when she drops by at work. The look she gives him is one of surprise, and then there is the guilt again. And then there's nothing. A blank, empty smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"You caught me there. I guess I was just worried, you know. For your memory returning." He is not sure why, but those words startle him. As if there was something in them that he doesn't hear. He hears the intensity in her voice, before her empty smile is followed by a hollow laughs. She pats his arm, lightly. "I guess they didn't tell you that I was there when the accident happened. I was in another room, so I wasn't hurt, but I remember. Many people died that day, and I think I'm just worried how you will take it when that memory returns. I'm sorry to have made you worry."

And he supposes that it makes sense. He remembers Deborah as someone who worries for other people and looks out for them. But he doesn't remember Deborah with an empty smile like that. And when she turns around and leaves now, talking about having to get back to work, he is almost sure that she is fleeing. He's just not sure what – or whom –she is running from.

 

* * *

 

 

Maria is surprised when Phil Coulson turns up at her doorsteps. Its five minutes to midnight and she was getting ready for a hot bath and some smut novel on her first evening off since she returned to London. Maria is constantly flying back and forth between her flat in San Franscico in the Headquaters and this place here.

While the Star Fleet Headquaters were in Frisco, S.H.I.E.L.D. had a large base in the place one of their founding members had come from. So for someone like her, who is aspiring both in the regular Star Fleet Ranks and in the somewhat secret security of the same… well. It's stressful. She never gets to rest in either place and an evening off is a precious thing for her. One she had fully intended to put to good use.

And now Phil Coulson stands in front of her door, in his suit, with this small British smile on his lips and deep wrinkles above his brows. A face she had not wanted to see until in the meeting on Friday. She wishes she hadn't opened the door. If Coulson shows up it usually means that there was some worrisome business for her and her time off was cancelled.

She lets him in anyway, and grabs a pencil from her desk to pin up her hair again, mentally saying goodbye to that strawberry bubble bath she had looked forward to all week. She offers him something to drink, not one to loose her manners even in front of a more or less unwelcome guest, but Phil get's down to business. "What is going on with Deborah?"

Maria is surprised, to say the least, at the question. She crosses her arms over her chest. "Interesting question. Good question, actually, but you're asking the wrong person. You live opposite of her, couldn't you just… go there?"

Phil frowns a bit. "She has been avoiding me for the past week. She's even sent you to pick up Darcy after her singing lesson. She only did that when we had that fight because of the Budapest-matter. So … what is going on, Hill?"

For a second she contemplates to insist that he should keep her out of it and just ask Deborah himself. Debby and she were only back in touch for a bit more than a week now, and she didn't want to anger her friend again. She was so good at alienating people, she didn't need to screw this again. And it wasn't her business either, to be honest. She could say that. But that would be the Commander talking, not Debby's friend. As a real friend she should be willing to put up with Deborah's anger in favour of her well-being. And, you know, fuck it.

So instead, she goes to her armchair in the living room and motions for Coulson to sit down on the couch. "I shouldn't, but wish I could tell you. As it is, though, I'm just as clueless as you are. Debby has been… closed off. Something happened in the hospital. I looked into it, yesterday, and I'm not exactly surprised that she didn't tell either of us."

She notes that Coulson tenses up the more she says. He knows that he won't like what she has to say. So she makes it quick, Maria has never been one to beat about the bush. "Admiral Marcus had her removed of the case of Patient 73. Officially it is because the patient has recovered mostly from whatever it was she was to heal. But we have more ears in the hospital than in Section 31, and it appears that Deborah had an argument with the Admiral over the Patients treatment. More specifically, Deborah thinks that the memory implants are not working as good as they should and she wants him put back into cryostasis. He claims that she was getting attached to the patient, seeing him as more of a human than the barbarian Augment he is, so he removed her."

Coulson stared at her for a moment, and Hill sees the same worry in his eyes that hat hit her when she heard the details from her sources. They both had known from the beginning that Deborah wasn't cut out for the works of being a spy, and that she still had her doubt about Admiral Marcus. She had been working under the man for too long and she had only lately begun to see the worrying, maniac streaks in him that Admiral Fury and some others had noticed a long while ago. It was very much like Deborah to try and reason with him, but neither of them would have let her do it if they had known of her doubts. And, to put it in Fury’s words after she had reported to him of that matter, now Deborah was 'screwed'. Marcus' would begin to doubt her, and she was in danger.

"Did you inform Admiral Fury…?"

Maria nods, brushing a few strands of hair form her face. "Yes. But we can't do anything right now. Her situation is fragile, and if some of our people get too openly involved it could tip the scale – and not in Deborah's favour. Marcus is paranoid, and if he even slightly suspects that she would betray him now… well." Maria shrugs.

Coulson sighs, and then he gets up. Maria follows him as he walks to the door. "And I suspect we shouldn't let Deborah know that we know about it, so she stays more careful and more away from us."

Maria allows herself a small smile. Despite her occasional disagreements with the man, she can't deny that he is a smart one. Always quick to pick up things. "Exactly. Admiral Fury also gave me specific orders to not worry, and I should guess that they are also orders that would work for you, Coulson. Let's trust Deborah on this. Admiral Marcus still adores her as the medical genius she is. She is too important for his work for him to just drop her now. Everything will work out fine."

Coulson tries to smile, but it's not an honest one. It's his British smile, the small smile that is almost a reflex to the man, because he is so big on manners. "Yes, you're probably right. Thank you for your time, Commander. Have a nice evening, and sorry for the disturbance." She waves it off and tells him that it's fine, before she closes the door of her apartment behind him. Then she leans against the door for a moment, and wishes that she could believe in the things she has said to Coulson. If only a little.

 

* * *

 

 

He stands in the quiet darkness of his and Molly's apartment, the only light in the room coming from the streetlamp before his window. It's enough for him to make out his own silhouette in the floor-length mirror. He's wearing the uniform for the first time. While at work in Section 31 they wear different Uniforms, not the official ones, probably due to the secretive nature of their work. But now he will go on his first official mission since his amnesia, and Commander John Harrison feels unsettled once more.

Molly is in the children's hospital, having nightshift today, and he is glad for it. With Molly's loving and cheerful person around him he feels guilty whenever he indulges thoughts like these. He wouldn't want to give her reasons to worry for him unnecessarily. But he finds that he can't help it. He can't help staring at this face of his, especially the pale skin, the high cheekbones of his face, the pale eyes, the pale lips. Of all the things he remembers by now – _his first Date with Molly, his graduation ceremony, the funeral of his parents, his first time being drunk with Thomas, meeting Deborah for the first time_ – he still doesn't remember his own face. And he had hoped that maybe at least he would remember it with the Uniform.

He is startled out of his own thoughts when the doorbell rings. He glances at the clock – it's three o'clock in the morning, it will be another hour before he leaves and another two hours before Molly comes home – before he heads for the security camera before his door. He can make out Deborah, standing there in her trench coat, with her hair wild around her head. And her head is leaning against the wall. He doesn't hesitate to open the door. "Deborah. What are you doing here?"

She looks at him, and he is surprised to see so many unguarded emotions on her face. The emotions he thought he saw before. Guilt and fear. And a hint of determination. "Molly isn't here, is she?" He shakes his head, and makes a step aside, motioning for her to come in. Which she does, but she stops directly in front of him, behind the door. And then she holds out something for him on the tip of her index finger. It's small, barely the size of a rice corn. "Take this when it turns red. With some water if you can. Only when it turns red, no sooner, no later."

He takes it from her fingertip, between his thumb and his own index finger, and holds it up to his eye. "Is it a new medication?" It looks like a pill. But he is almost sure that he can make out something below the smooth structure. It doesn't look… edible. And he shouldn't be able to see this in the unlit hallway. The darkness tugs at his mind again.

And then there is a small, choked chuckle from Deborah. Humourless, bitter. "No. Nothing of that sort. It's… it will… give you something. Help you to remember. But don't tell anyone I gave it to you, okay, John? You need to promise me this. No one can know. I'm putting… many people into danger in doing this. God, I don't even know _why_ I'm doing this." She buries her face in the palm of her hands, and he can't help but marvel how the usually closed of face can be so open now.

"Deborah. Tell me what is going on. Is someone threatening you?" She looks at him, and then she shakes her head, crosses her arms over her chest.

"No. Not like that. I just… did something. I forgot who I was, because I was so focused on success. God, David would hate me if he knew what I have done. And now I'm just…" She rubs her forehead again. "I'm tired of this. This is not me. I'm not my mother. I'm not good with secrets."

And then she looks at him again, and she is silently pleading him with his her eyes. He just doesn't know what she is asking of him. "Please. Just. I have to go. Take it with you on your mission. Take it when it becomes red. And then… when you remember… don't come back. When you remember, you'll understand. Don't come back here, John. Find a new life and become happy." And with that, she turns around, opens the door again and leaves. He watches her over the security camera, as her steps become quicker and how she's almost running before she leaves the range of the camera.

He stays where he is, staring at the small pill between his fingers. A part of him, the part of him that has been whispering, that has been raging, that has been stirring the paranoia in him… this part tells him to crush it. To not trust her. Tells him that it probably is poison. That she's trying to kill him for whatever he had done, for what he has forgotten to have done, for which she has been staring at him with the same fear in her eyes that they held now.

And then there is the other part of him. The part that … knows things. Knows that this is no poison, just like it knows that this is not a pill. It is technology. Biotechnology, that could be harmful, but in this case isn't. It is blue now. And he puts it in the breast pocket of his uniform, to wait for it to become red. Because he trusts Deborah. And he thinks he knows that the fear in her eyes was not directed at him. Not this time.

 

* * *

 

 

Commander Maria Hill has many things in life that she looks back to with regrets. She knows that technically it was pointless and that any psychiatrist would strongly advise her to learn to let go, but she found that she didn't care. Holding unto the things she did wrong was right for her.

She could not go back to the past and change what she had done, but she could promise to never forget anything she had done wrong, to never forget what had come of the things she had done wrong, and to try and not repeat those errors. Regrets where a burden she carried, but a good kind of burden. It made her more alert, attentive. Like wheights that trained the muscles of her mind.

And now she had to add _this_ to that list of regrets. She stares on the screen in Admiral Fury’s office. She sees Deborah's face in the split second that she steps out from the shadows and wishes that Debby had talked to her instead of doing things on her own. But she couldn't blame Debby. This was on her.

She should have noted that Deborah had not been herself that evening when she had come to her with a bottle of wine. It was the anniversary of her mother's death, though, and she had chalked it off to that. Captain Margaret Carter, one of the greatest women to have ever entered the ranks of a captain. Deborah and her mother had had their fair share of conflicts, but still, Deborah had never gotten over her death, the pain was still there.

Maria knew that Deborah always took that day off, so she had not been too surprised when her friend had turned up at her place. She had supplied without Maria's asking that Darcy was with Phil tonight and that she needed someone to talk to. So she had just let her in and waited for Deborah to start talking. First, though she had started to drink, gulping down her wine in a very un-Deborah-like fashion.

And then she had started to talk about Peggy. About the great woman she had been. That people still told her frequently of her good deeds. Of her high values of ethics and moral, moral duty. Of her ability to see through people, see to their core, see their character. Of how her father had once said that he hoped she would be even a little bit like her mother. Deborah had seemed absent minded, though, when she had murmured that she seemingly was nothing like her. A disappointment. That she had done things her mother would have condemned, and now she did not have the backbone to clean up her own mess.

Maybe she should have asked. Asked what she was talking about. But Maria had assumed those to be the ramblings of a slightly drunk daughter in grief. And she had assumed that as a good friend she should not pry, and just let her talk and grief in her own fashion. She had drunk a bit herself, and they had watched a movie to which she had assumed that both of them had fallen asleep on the couch. Only that when she woke up, Debby had been gone.

And now she knows where she had been. Maria stares at Debby's haunted expression on the screen, as she emerged from John Harrison's home. She looked vaguely in the direction of the camera, probably knowing that he was still under surveillance. And probably also knowing that the bugs in his home had been taken out over night for a few hours, so they could be replaced during the time he was gone with better ones. The question was, though, where Debby had had that information from. And what she had told the Augment in the few minutes she had been in there.

Maria has her arms crossed over her chest and her fingers tighten their grip on her own upper arms while she tries not to crunch her teeth. Admiral Fury’s gaze on her face is of burning intensity. She inhales deeply through her nose, trying to keep her expression blank. "She came from my place, yes, but she had not mentioned her _plans_ to me, Sir."

Fury seems annoyed with her answer. "Her plans, Commander Hill, are not the issue here. I have read your evaluations and your reports on her, we know she has her problems with Marcus' mission. Though more information on his mission would have been nice." He snorts and starts pacing. She hates it when he does that – which he knows, of course. She respects Admiral Fury, she really does, but she can't get behind his methods half of the time, and the other half she has this not-so-subtle wish to punch him in the face just once in her life.

Now is not that time, though, as much as she wants to when he continues his verbal slap to her face. "We can also be pretty damn sure that we know what her plans were, seeing that certain pods are missing from the lab and that Harris has not been seen ever since he returned from his mission. Marcus is going nuts trying to cover up what he's been doing in that secret lair of his and with his killer machine. Wherever he had to put the guy, now, after he probably had his memory back. His control is slipping. This is good for us. What I want to know is where your friend is _now._ "

Maria wants to tear at her hair and groan in frustration. Fuck Nick Fury. He acts like she knows where Deborah is, as if she just doesn't want to tell him. Does he think this is a game to her? Her friend has been missing for almost a whole month now. She has been _lying_ to Darcy and Phil and claimed that Deborah was on a mission. She keeps lying to them every day, though Phil is suspicious, of course. Does he really think that she'd be harbouring her somewhere? After all she has done for S.H.I.E.L.D.? Maria presses her lips together tightly. _1...2…3…10._ "Pardon, Sir, but I still don't know where she is. As I said, Doctor Carter-Hampton does not have many friends, and she doesn't have much of any family left, aside from a niece and a Cousin. As I told you the last time you asked me."

Fury pauses in his pacing, and stares at her, openly frustrated. "Yes, and we have checked in with Doctor Ross and Sharon Carter, and she isn't there." Fury turns towards Maria, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is a pretty pathetic display of friendship, Hill. The doctor needs to be found. My superiors want her questioned on Marcus' doings – _yesterday._ We're talking about one of the biggest, baddest fucking betrayals in the history of Star Fleet and your _friend_ is our grip on Marcus' balls. You better…"

A knock on the door of his office interrupts him, and he hits the surface of his table with his fist, before bellowing out an order for the person who interrupted to come in. It's Commander Sitwell, with a touchpad in his hand. He nods in her direction, and then looks at Fury with a very calm expression. "Admiral, we have… found Doctor Carter-Hampton." Fury raises an eyebrow at him and Sitwell takes a step in his direction, holding the pad out towards him.

Fury takes it, scanning the surface. He is too quiet. Maria doesn't like it at all. And then he looks up at her. "Well, Commander Hill. You're dismissed for the day. Go to Commander Coulson. He will probably need your help."

She nods and walks in the direction of the door, but can't help her self. She knows those had to have been bad news. She know sit. But she turns before leaving the room, looking at Fury again. "Admiral. Where has she been found?"

Fury, who has looked at the Pad again, looks at her with an unreadable expression. "In a ship-wreck."

 

* * *

 

 

The obituary notice is small and almost pointless with that big and flashy article on page three about the tragic mission of a small ship with malfunctions. Nevertheless, Darcy cuts it out to put it in her diary, whereas she never read the article that praises the wonderful crew, especially renowned Doctor Deborah Carter-Hampton, who has died in the hospital three hours after they were able to retrieve her body from the wreck. The article even mentions the poor orphaned daughter Darcy Margaret Lewis, who has been put into an orphan program of Star Fleet.

Darcy hates the article. They didn't really know her mother. All they care about is the Doctor that died. Darcy hates them. She hates everyone. She hates the world. The only thing she doesn't hate is to go to the park, to climb into a tree, and sit there, where no one can see her. Or so she thought.

"Darcy Lewis?" A man calls out from under the tree she is sitting on. The seven year old looks down at the man. He is very tall, very pale, and wears a black coat. He holds no bag, though, and no camera.

"Are you a reporter? Because if you are, you can move along. I'm not talking to you."

And the man just smiles up at her. It's a bit of a weird smile, she thinks. It doesn't look happy at all. "My name is John, Darcy. Your mother was my friend and I would like to talk to you. Would you like to come down here or shall I come up to you?"

Darcy eyes him. There have been many friends of her mothers in the last weeks. They came to pay her their respects, but most just looked at her really sad and ended up talking to Uncle Phil, or Maria. Very few really talked to her for a couple of minutes, and some even started to cry, like that Gilmore-person. Certainly none of them have climbed trees with her, though. "Can you? Come up?"

Darcy watches a bit fascinated as the man seemingly effortlessly climbs into the tree. And then he sits on a branch a bit below and opposite of hers and looks at her. He really is tall.

"Wow, you're quick. What do you want to talk about?"

He continues to look at her, a bit weird. Like she has something on her nose. "I lost my whole family, too, Darcy, and I would like to be your friend. Do you think we can be friends?"

Darcy eyes the man, as he sits there in his coat, with his long arms and legs. It's weird to see a grown up in a tree. Her mother never climbed a tree. And then she shrugs. "Sure. As long as you're not boring. Or start to cry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: 
> 
> Deborah Hampton-Carter is a made-up character. Same goes fore pretty much everyone else you don't recognize immediately. Doctors, people Harrison mentions, and so forth. I also made up a big chunk of how the memory-regain could have worked. Basically, I think they would have planted false memories - computer-generated - of people to ease the process of him becoming the person they want him to be. All of the people he supposedly remembers work for Section 31 and are meant to keep an eye on him. To name his girlfriend Molly was a special nod from me to usedkarma, because she ships Benedict Cumberbatch's other role 'Sherlock' with the character 'Molly' on that show - and she also ships Khan with Molly. So. I hope that made you smile, dear.
> 
> Aside from that: The story of what happened to Khan eversince they awoke him seems a bit blurry to me. He thought himself to be John Harrison, yes. And he worked for Section 31, yes. Brilliant and all that. And then, at one point after an unclear period of time he found out. He was then blackmailed into working for Admiral Marcus. And then he seemed to have disappeared for quite a while before that Archive-Incident. I decided that he was on the run for about a year, because it just has to take some time to prepare his master-plan. And also because he'll have another plan in my story line. So. Er. Yeah.
> 
> Oh, and on that note, before you get all worried: S.H.I.E.L.D. is a secret organisation inside of Star Fleet. Unlike Section 31, S.H.I.E.L.D. is known to the higher-ups, mostly, though not all approve. It is said that Section 31 has probably been a secret (illegal) part of Star Fleet even before the days of it's official founding. And, well. I just think its damn well highly unlikely that no-one ever found out and tried to take counter measures. A big part of what I didn't really like about Into Darkness was how unprepared Star Fleet was for many of the things that happened. I might use S.H.I.E.L.D. to explain them or correct them.
> 
> Next up: Chapter 2. What happened to our Marvel-characters during the Plot of 'Into Darkness'. ;) I'll see you there -though you shouldn't expect the chapter to be up within the next 14 days.
> 
> I hope you had fun with this story so far and I do look forward to hear your thoughts on this!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slight mention of sexism in the ranks of Star Fleet. A shitload of a 'history lesson' at the end. Resurrection!plots

* * *

 

_[From dehumanization to arms production,_ __  
_For the benefit of the nation or its destruction_   
_Power, power, the law of the land,_   
_Those living for death will die by their own hand]_

_Annihilation – A Perfect Circle_

* * *

 

_2259, London_

When Darcy wakes up the first time everything around her is blurry. Her first sight is Maria, who sits at the side of her bed and is holding her hand. Maria is talking to her, and then talking to a Doctor who is standing at the other side of her bed. They're both gesturing wildly, and the doctor keeps shrugging and pointing at her, but Darcy doesn't completely understand them. The sounds are too many. The machines give her a headache with their shrill and shrieking sounds. She smiles, though, seeing Maria so worked up. She promised she would be alright, hadn't she? Then she quickly slips back to sleep.

The second time Darcy wakes up she can hear Maria talking to someone, before she even opens her eyes. "…stood by her bed and left again. I don't know what it was that he did, but he must have done something, Admiral. This morning the doctors told us we should say our goodbyes and a few hours later she wakes up?" She sounds agitated, but there is also something in her voice that Darcy can't place.

A man with a deep voice replies, and Darcy is sure that she knows that voice. He sounds pissed. "So you're proposing that my best man was compromised, Hill. That he was the one who blew the damn thing up to save the girl." Darcy opens her eyes and immediately gets overwhelmed by a headache. The lights in the room are too strong.

"Sir, I don't like this any more than you do, but it's just putting two and two together." Darcy is sure something is wrong. There's the sound in Maria's voice that she only has when she's very worried or very angry. She frowns and tries to sit up, but everything hurts, and she groans.

Both people turn to her, and Darcy recognized the big man now. The eye-patch-guy. Unlce Phil works for him. Maria moves from the end of the bed to her side, grabbing her hand. "Hey, Darcy. How are you? Are in pain? Shall I go get the nurses?"

Darcy shakes her head, though she isn't sure if she means it as a no or if she's just trying to shake off the tiredness and the pain. "Where's Uncle Phil?" Maria opens her mouth, but closes it again within the same movement. As if she isn't sure what to say.

The Eyepatch-guy moves to stand beside her, looking down at Darcy. He doesn't smile. "He's at work. And I will have to take Commander Hill here with me for work as well. Will you be all right for a while without her?"

Maria looks like she wants to protest, but Darcy nods, and can't suppress a yawn. "Sure. I'll just sleep a bit, okay?" She doesn't really wait for their reply. Her eyes close on their own account again.

 

The third time she wakes up her room is filled with darkness. The only light in the room comes from the machines that she is attached to. It's a very dim, pale light with a touch of turquoise. This time is the first time she wakes up without a headache. She looks around in the room, squinting her eyes.

Slowly she can make our forms and figures. There are flowers on a table to her left. A photograph of her with her mother, and one of her with her mother and Uncle Phil. There's also a big, stuffed Teddy that has not been there the last time she woke up. She makes a face at the thing. She hates Teddies. At the side of the table, in the big chair, is Maria. She is asleep, her head resting against the table and a blanket wrapped around herself.

"I see you are better now, Darcy." It is a barely audible whisper, and Darcy looks up to the door, half expecting to see a nurse there, or a doctor. And then there is the sound of steps from the right part of the room, and Darcy turns her head quickly. It's weird, but though the room is pretty dark she recognizes the man who gets up from another chair beside the window and walks towards her. He is paler than the last time she saw him, but he's wearing a black coat and a thin smile.

"Oh. John. Long time no see," she whispers back. He inclines his head a bit, and comes to halt directly at the side of her bed. His face is a bit different. She can't say what is different, though. Maybe she just imagines it. After that one time they sat in the tree together they met for a while very regularly, but then he said he had a mission and he was gone.

"Half a year now, I believe. How do you feel?" His look is a bit curious, but she has never been really good in reading his expression. He's like Maria there, Maria also has this non-face sometimes.

Darcy touches both her hands to her head, then to her chest, to her arms, to her stomach, to her legs. "Well, I still have all important things. They didn't cut anything off. So I believe I'm well. Toll y'all I'd be fine, didn't I?" She can't help but grin a bit. Her mother always used to say that she had a lot of dumb luck. "How are you, though?"

Something in his face twitches, and she sees his gaze flicker to Maria, then back to her. "Darcy. Do you remember the story I told you of my family?"

She blinks, a bit confused. How could she forget? He told her that his family had been taken from him, by people who believed that they owned the universe. They had done horrible things to him and his people, treating them like rats. They made them sick, he said. He told her that he doesn't even know if they were still alive, and where they were. And that he would spend his life searching for them.

A pretty sad story, though pretty weird as well. More horrible, in a way, than any horror story she's ever read. He had told her after she had told him that she would probably have to go to an orphanage. That had been a day before Uncle Phil had been given permission to be her guardian. She nods. "Sure."

His hand grips her hand now, and he grabs it a bit roughly at that. It makes her worried. "Well, I found them."

Darcy clasps her free hand over her mouth to contain the squeal of excitement. Both glance at Maria, before Darcy speaks, trying to hush her voice. "You did? Really? Are they… okay?"

He nods. "They are still alive, though I don't know for how long. I will save them. I will go away with them. But I will need your help." He stares her directly in the eyes, and she notes that the colour of his eyes is almost the same as the colours on the screen of that one machine. And they almost seem to be glowing as well. His voice is very low, as he speaks now, just a bit louder than a whisper. "Will you help me."

It's weird. It doesn't sound like a question and there are the weird pauses between his words. He never spoke like that. But she guesses it must be the worry for his friends and family. She sits up slowly, and can't help but grin. It's exciting that he comes to her for help. Her mother would probably be very proud of her for helping her friend like that. "I already promised you, didn't I? So… when do we start?"

* * *

 

_2259, San Francisco_

When Nick Fury enters the Daystrom Conference Room, Maria trails after him, his new first officer and his new shadow. As it always is when Admiral Fury enters a place, heads turn in his direction. Usually they linger on his eye-patch, the one feature that always prominently gives away his person and that people usually describe before retelling one of the rumours and mystery stories they had heard about the man who wore a black leather coat with his grey uniform. This time, though, the glances the people try to subtly send in his direction quite often redirect themselves towards her, and Maria raises her chin slightly.

She is aware of what people think of her. And not only of her as a replacement for Coulson, who has always been beloved by all, but also of her as Fury’s choice. A very young, prodigal woman. Star Fleet has come far in the past, but it has not come far under Admiral Marcus, and women in positions such as hers still got side-eyed. It was fairly obvious as well, seeing that there was only one other woman in the room. Maria nodded at Commander Amélie Sonne, and the black-haired women sitting at her chair at the side of her Admiral replied with a tight, small smile.

Fury headed straight for his chair as well, opposite of Sonne, and Maria sat down to his right. Apparently, some others took that as a cue to get settled as well, and Maria took in the various people in the room.

To Sonne's left was a young man she didn't know, but to that guy's right sat a man Maria recognized as Admiral Pike. Maria didn't know him much, but she knew that he was one of the few who knew of the S.H.I.E.L.D.-Operative. Whether or not he approved of their work was unknown to her. The Admiral nodded in Fury’s direction as he saw him now, before he leaned to the young man to his right. Whatever he said, it made the guy look in their direction as well, briefly, sending a small nod and even a smile in their direction before he looked back at the man that sat a few seats to Maria's own right side. She recognized him as Commander Spock. Coulson had been talking about him. Approvingly, from what she remembered. He had considered recommending him for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Her head turned when Fury softly tapped his finger against the table. A clear sign of his irritation at Marcus, for not having started the meeting already, or having it scheduled earlier. Thirteen hours had passed since the attack.

Before this meeting, Fury had drilled it into her to keep quiet and keep any thoughts she had to herself. Her job was to study the people in the room and determine how many of them were close to Marcus and would maybe be in this whole thing. Because there was a thing going on. And whatever it was, Marcus was trying hard to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. out of the loop. They couldn't rule it out that Marcus had blown up the Archive to escape S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gaze. He had to have known that they had eyes and ears in there by now. Not even the Admiral could just do as he pleased with everything in Star Fleet, and it was clear that that wasn't exactly to his liking.

However, there was also the problem of the footage they had of Phil. Footage that Marcus probably didn't have, because Phil had made sure to delete it before the place had been detonated. Footage of Phil wearing a ring that clearly was replica of the Star Fleet Ring – only, he had worn it the wrong way around and turned it thrice on his finger, as if to make people notice it. And he had given them clear signs, on security cameras, that he was a hostage. The question was – whose hostage had he been?

If some of their Agents were right in what they thought – that Marcus was behind it – then there was a chance that he was just waiting to get S.H.I.E.L.D. of his back for this and to prove their involvement and blame it on them. And if that was the case, they couldn't give him an opening.

So Admiral Fury had told her that both he and she would lay low for this one, as far as they could. Any thoughts they had were to be discussed at a later point – while some of their own Agents were recording this meeting through the pretty, pretty insignias on Maria's shoulders. Nothing would escape them.

So Maria did, indeed, simply lean back and observe. Her orders had been to primarily figure out Admiral Pike, along with his first officer What-was-his-name-again, and Admiral Burgess, along with his first officer Sonne.

Her first impression of Pike's first officer is… well, she has mixed feelings. He is very eager and can't keep still or keep his cool. A bit like a puppy. But all his impulsiveness aside, he does some quick thinking there. And from the way he put it, she doubts that he was in on anything. She also got the feeling Pike has tried to hush the boy and to keep him from addressing his concerns to Marcus. Pike's whole body language speaks of him trying to somehow shield the guy from Marcus' gaze, and she isn't exactly sure what that means for them. She would have to put someone on it.

She can't further think this through, though. Because this is when the words of the guy register in a part of her brain. Kurt-or-whatever jumps up and turns around the same moment Maria thrusts out her left arm against Fury’s chest. As red light flood the room and temporally blind her, her training kicks in and she pulls herself and Fury – who has reacted just as quickly as she has in grabbing the young officer to his own left side at the collar – below the table, where she and Fury end up crouching back to back. The room is suddenly filled with various, shrill noises and a few loud cries in-between. She can hear Kurt scream something before the firing starts.

She only exchanges so much as one glance over her shoulder with Fury before they both kick to action and bolt to different sides of the table, ready to clear the room and call in their people. Before Maria reaches the end of her side of the table, Admiral Burgess' dead body drops down before her, staring at her with accusing and lifeless eyes. It's just a split second that the world around her seems to pause, and her lungs don't suck in oxygen.

The moment is over quickly, and when she gasps adrenalin rushes to her brain, allowing her to kick herself off from the ground over Burgess and slide out from under the table and out of the room. She sees Kurt leaving the room and considers following him, but, if this really is a conspiracy? She has no time for bullshitting around now. She pulls out the signal from a pocket of her uniform and clips it on her ear, bellowing out orders as she runs.

* * *

 

_2259, San Francisco_

Maria stays at San Francisco after that on Fury’s order. He says she is to be there in his absence for Pike's memorial while he has left for London the same night. He was fuming, because Admiral Marcus has refused to hand over the wreck of the attacker's ship.

The attacker 'John Harrison'. The very same guy Phil had filled reports on in over the last year. The Augment that Marcus' has claimed to be on a mission, hence why he has not been in the Archive. Coulson had written a report in which he had put up the thesis that John Harrison was not working for Marcus' any longer, and that they should try and find out his whereabouts. Apparently they found him now. And also apparently, he was truly not working for Marcus' anymore. This was the understatement of the year.

The only thing that remains unclear is how much John Harrison remembers of who he had been and where he will strike again. And there is no doubt that he will, indeed, strike. If not to try and get a grip of the other Augments, then for revenge for what has been done to him. A small part of Maria can't even blame him for that. Marcus was mad to think this would work. She just hates that they haven't had the chance to intervene before the situation escalated.

With a frustrated grunt, Maria rubs the bridge of her nose and grabs her coffee-mug, only to find it empty. The memorial was two weeks ago, and she has spend them in the small apartment at Star Fleet Headquarters put aside for her, waiting for a message from Fury that she can come to England now. She wants to go and look for Darcy. Someone still has to tell the girl that Phil is dead, after all. _Phil_. Who had been compromised, as she thought. By that blasted _Harrison_ guy, that Kirk – not Kurt, as she noted when she read his file earlier – has spotted on the footage trailing Phil.

Admiral Fury truly lived up to his name and has been, well, furious when he had realized that none of their people have spotted him on the security tapes. Then again, none of their people have been told to look for him. They've truly believed that he was on a mission, after all. None of them considered Marcus' to be truly so very stupid and just _loose_ the killer-machine Augment he had awoken and fed false information to.

But now that they know that he has practically lost a devil, they can vaguely assume that Harrison's – no, Khan Noonien Singh's goal was to kill Marcus and eradicate Star Fleet. Possibly reclaim rule over parts of earth, or even the whole planet. Maybe just to destroy earth.

And Fury suspects that Khan will go back to London for this. Back to the Archive where things had started, where his family has been. The case of the other Augments was still unclear. They have reason to doubt that Khan would blow the place up with the Augments in them, after all. But where – and when- could Marcus have moved them?

However, that was not her task. She was to try and find out what Marcus planned to do. And in between she had just enough time to worry over her own problems. The hospital has called to tell her that they will probably discharge Darcy within the next three days. She has 'phenomenal vitals', as they put it. The nurses have even started calling her a 'miracle child'.

Maria has considered taking Darcy in and adopting her, but Fury would have none of it. A part of her felt relieved for having taking the choice of her shoulders, and another part of her feels guilty for that relief. But she has to be realistic there: she is still pretty young, not even thirty yet. She doesn't feel like juggling a child and her career at the same time. And she probably won't be able to, either.

Fury has already put things in motion for Darcy to come and live with a foster family in San Francisco, anyway. Maria has faintly objected to having the girl relocate, but Fury is adamant about it. S.H.I.E.L.D. still holds more power in California than they hold in England, and he wants her protected and within their reach.

The family she was to be put into, Ben and Jodie Cooper, were former Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. themselves. They have been in the second generation of Agents. Ben has been friends with Phil, from what Maria gathered from their file, and he's been very eager to care for 'Phil's little girl'. Maria isn't sure she approves. Or, well. Is she even allowed to think that? But she isn't sure that she wants Darcy so closely involved in all this already. Deborah would have wanted for her daughter to have a choice in what she does with her life. And the way it is now? It's really hard for her to see any future for Darcy that does not involve her ending up in Star Fleet and, eventually, in S.H.I.E.L.D.

Maria brushes both her hands through her hair, pressing her eyes firmly close. Phil would have hated her for this. For sitting here and just waiting for orders, for just letting things happen. For not saving Darcy from the system like he had done, after Deborah's death. Or, … no. He would not have hated her for it. But he would have looked at her, trying to hide the disappointment, before just patting her shoulder in an understanding expression. His understanding was the worst.

But what can she do, really, if she is unable to take the girl in herself? There are no friends of Deborah left, and not much family. Doctor Ross has gone missing, though S.H.I.E.L.D. is unto it, and Sharon Carter is an orphaned teenager in a foster family herself. And she doesn't trust even one of Deborah's former colleagues with Darcy. Maria positively hates that Gilmore-guy, and though Deborah supposedly had liked Emma Sutherland… well. Maria never did. Not that Sutherland would have taken Darcy. She's too much of a career-driven woman herself. The only part of Deborah's life that Emma had always seemed eager to take of her hands had been her cases, her genius or David. Debby had just been to kind to see that.

A ring of the doorbell forces Maria out of her gloomy thoughts. She blinks, for a moment almost disorientated, before she mechanically gets up and opens the door. A shy and a bit insecure smile appears on the face of her friend Carol, who held up one hand in greeting. "Err, hi Maria. Long time no see?" Maria crosses her arms over her chest. The smile on her own face is wary at best, as she takes in the appearance of the woman before her, in jeans and a sweater.

Carol Marcus. She's not seen a lot of her ever since they left Star Fleet Academy after their early graduation at age twenty. And they hadn’t parted on the best terms, either. Carol had accused Maria of getting too absorbed with her job to have time for any friends. The last time they've even so much as seen each other was on Deborah's funeral.

Maria leans against her open door. "Carol. That's unexpected. To what do I owe this… pleasure." She wonders who died. Is this about Pike's memorial?

Carol pushes a few strands of her blonde hair out of her face. "Look, Maria, I know that we have… issues, between us. But I really need your help with something, and I don't have much time. I'll tell you everything, later, I promise. But… just…can I come in?"

Maria makes a vague, inviting gesture, though she feels suspicion rise as Carol enters the flat. Carol doesn't ask people for help, usually. Carol is more the type to do things on her own. Very impulsive and sometimes irrational. And if Carol comes to her to ask for help with something, it's usually something highly bordering on… well… illegal. And the last time that happened had been in Starfleet Academy – it had involved fake IDs and a bit of drugs. And they had only been able to come out of that without a note in their record because of Carol's last name. Maria raises an eyebrow, as she closes the door behind her. This will be … interesting.

* * *

 

_2259, London_

Darcy doesn't talk. It's not that she can't, or that she's actively trying to be silent. It's just that she simply… doesn't. One of the nurses tried to talk to her, but she had been lost in thought, staring at the picture on her night stand, and another nurse had shot the younger one an evil glare after that. When Darcy had realized that she had been talked to, it seemed pointless to ask the woman to repeat her question. And ever since none of them had directed a question at her anymore, or anything that required an answer.

One of the Nurses even had done her packing for her and laid out a black dress for her when she had been told that her new guardians had send over someone to pick her up. Some Lieutenant Whatever. They wanted to 'relocate' her this day. Relocate. Like she was some… box. Away from London, from England even.

There had been that guy that had picked up Maria before, the one with the eye-patch, and he had called her over a screen that the doctors had brought in. He had told her that she would be brought to friends of Commander Coulson, who would be really happy to have her. She hadn't even bothered to remember the name, she had just asked for Maria.

But Maria can't even be here to pick her up now. A part of Darcy wonders if she'll be gone again. Maria was often away, when she was smaller. Only after her mother's death did she stay around in London. Darcy stares at empty nightstand, where the pictures had been. Maybe it's egoistical of her, but she really wishes that Maria would not leave her, too. Maria would see her in San Francisco, the Fury-Man had promised, but Darcy isn't sure of it. Maybe Maria will be too busy there, too.

She will be brought to an old couple, and she will be dropped there. She doesn't like to be around new people. New people are always awkward with her, and she's awkward with them. It'll be like after her mother's death all over again. The way the nurses treat her is just the start.

Darcy tears her gaze from the nightstand and watches, as one of them packs her last belongings into a small bag, among them her mothers pendant. Her other stuff, things from Uncle Phil's place, had been gathered and already sent ahead, and now all that was left were the few things she had had in the hospital and on her. Luggage waiting to be 'relocated'.

Darcy looks down at the Teddybear in her arms. It was the only thing she had not allowed anyone to pack away. It was one thing she could hold unto. One task, a job. She was still useful, she had a friend left who counted on her, and she would do this. When John managed to free his family, he would sent them to her, and she could give this to them. He had said that his brother would know what to do with it.

A nurse comes and brings in Lieutenant Whatever. A woman with small, dark-brown curls, dark skin, dark eyes and a dark uniform. As if she was in mourning herself. Probably to be respectful, or something. Darcy doesn't say a word, just eyes the woman. She is tall as well, and she has a similar stance to Maria. Prepared, is the word that comes to her mind. The woman looks prepared for anything – or for battle. Maybe she finds this situation as uncomfortable as Darcy does.

Darcy let the nurse help her in her own dark coat, never letting go of the Teddy. The woman now makes a step towards Darcy and slowly holds out her hand to her. "Hello, Miss Lewis. My Name is Aminah Nejem. Admiral Fury send me to pick you up." To pick her up and bring her somewhere. Like luggage.

Darcy shakes Aminah's hand dutifully. She allows the woman to put a hand on her shoulder and guide her outside. Some of the nurses follow to wave goodbye and wish her all the best. Darcy can't really manage a smile, though she tries. Her mother raised her with manners, and the nurses had been very nice to her. Her mother would want her to be nice. She raises one hand, and she sees that one of the nurses looks like she's even going to _cry._

Darcy turns around hastily again, and then she buries her face in the Teddy. Lieutenant Nejem tells her that they will stop by somewhere to pick up some documents for her, and she starts talking about her new 'foster family'. Darcy wishes that Maria would be here instead of the woman. Maria wouldn't talk about that foster family now. She would maybe hug Darcy, and she would promise her that they would work it out. She wouldn't promise that all would be fine, because Maria never made promises she couldn't keep, but she would find something soothing to say. But Maria isn't here. And she knows it's not the Lieutenant's fault, but Darcy can't help herself. She just really wants to be with Maria right now.

* * *

 

_2259, London_

Nick Fury doesn't know if he's okay with what Hill presents him over the intercom. She sits in her flat, and he can see Sitwell in the background, typing away furiously on a pad. He has no fucking clue how Sitwell had ended up in the Headquaters, when he had been in London no ten hours ago, with Nick. But the man is remarkable that way.

There's also another one, Agent Bongani, who is on a different intercom line, talking with Lieutenant Nejem and coordinating the relocation of Doctor Carter-Hampton's daughter. Nejem was one of Nick's best people, and hadn't really been happy that she had been sent to pick up a small girl. Ever since Coulson isn't around anymore she is seemingly trying to always keep and eye on Fury in his place. A notion that Nick doesn't fully appreciate. For now, though, he decides to use her appreciation for Coulson's work in having her take her of his girl. That kid would probably need all the support it could get.

And even more so if Admiral Marcus ever decided to take an interest in her. He had had her mother eliminated – there was no doubt about it – and a ruthless and thorough man such as the Admiral wouldn't even blink before killing a kid. Having Nejem with her heightens the girl's chance of survival considerably. And it also makes Maria less anxious if she knows that Darcy is in the hands of someone capable.

Speaking of it, Maria looks like she had not slept since Pike's memorial, Fury dully notes, as Hill transmits him the files she's been talking about just now. He glances at the file that appears on his pad this second. Blueprints of the USS Enterprise, and a list of people in the crew of the newly re-installed _Captain_ Kirk and his first officer Spock. Then he looks up again.

Hill looks like she's bracing herself. She always does that when she talks with him. But so far he has not had reason to verbally tear a new one. And when she thinks he'll start now, when she's finally dared to make her own decisions, starting to stand up to him the same way Phil once started to, … well, she's in for a surprise. Instead, he leans back in his chair, entangling his fingers. "So, you're telling me that you used our resources to get Marcus' daughter on the Enterprise under a false identity."

Hill nods, and Nick notes that she's balling a fist in her lap. "Yes, Sir."

Nick flicks the pad on his table. He doesn't care to check the list. "And you chose her instead of one of our men because she's had more time to prepare herself and because you trust her." Hill frowns at that, and she seems to hesitate, if only for a second. Nick doesn't have time for doubts now. Especially not for self-doubts. If Hill put that woman there, she does trust her, and she has to learn to stand firmly behind her choice if she wants to take over Phil's role in S.H.I.E.L.D. And he just doesn't have the fucking nerves to deal with all that right now. Nick slams his fist on his table and leans forward. "Do you _trust_ the woman or don't you?"

Hill's face becomes the solid mask again that conceals any doubt she might have had. "Yes, Sir. Marcus is committed to doing the right thing, and not committed to her father. She came to me with proof that she was willing to hand over that her father might be working on starting an interstellar war with the Klingons, as S.H.I.E.L.D. had suspected. Marcus trusts her and Carol is above average intelligent. She will be able to find this missions' purpose, and she will be prepared to bring her father to justice. She is the best bet we have, and there was no time to hesitate, Admiral."

Nick simply stares at her for another moment, but Hill doesn't waver, so he simply gets up. "Alright. So we can be positive that the Enterprise is heading for Qo'nos now, with unlicensed weaponry aboard that came straight from Section 31." He takes his coat up from his chair, and puts it on. "Marcus has left the Headquarters this morning. He left earth this morning, according to our own reports. I want you to stay where you are and find out where he is. Sitwell, you will get in touch with our woman on Vulcan. I will go and confiscate whatever we can still find of Section 31. This is all we needed to make our move." He pauses briefly and looks towards Hill again. He merely nods, not needing to say that she did the right thing. Hill even almost smiles, before they both shut the channel.

If Nick would be a religions man, he would now pray. Pray that this Carol woman was as trustworthy as Maria had evaluated her to be. Pray that she would find something about the Torpedoes that they could use against Admiral Marcus, something that she could use to persuade Kirk to stop this mission. Pike had had high hopes for the boy, claimed him to be blessed with an extraordinary sense of moral. Nick just hopes that Pike hadn't been wrong about that the same way he had been wrong about Admiral Marcus years ago.

* * *

 

_2259, Exosphere_

Earth is but a dimly glowing spot in the Darkness around him, but it prompts a teeth-baring smile to appear on his feverish face, as the _Vengeance_ drops towards it. A perfect name. A prophetic name.

Marcus had thought she would raise an interstellar war against the Klingons, not seeing that the greatest war of all was not that of rule over a galaxy – it was the struggle of superiority between a species of shared origins, the fight of evolution, the fight for home. He had not even truly ruled his own planet and reached for another world. Pathetic.

And, unfathomably, he had thought himself able to subdue him. Khan Noonien Singh, greatest of his kind, king among kings. Marcus' rule had been destined to be ended by the weapon he was not the man to wield.

Khan knows that this is his moment. He has built the _Vengeance_ , she is his. Even when they had limited his mind he had brought greatness into his world, it was fate. He had always appreciated fate, the way puzzle pieces fell in place, the way that pawns were moved by an invisible hand on a board game of unknown rules. And fate is with him, and placed the power with him. This will not be the vengeance he had planned, but it will be enough.

It doesn't matter if he makes it out of this or not. His life holds no worth; a king is no king without his people. Had he chosen to live, he could have. Had he chosen to rule, he could have. But he doesn't need to. He doesn't have to be there, he doesn't have to see it. He has his legacy on this small, glowing, pathetic place that his earth has become and whatever happens now won't stop it. He has placed it in the hands of five other people, holding strings not all of them were even aware of. The Snake, the Wisdom, the Warrior, the Weapon and Fate. The last of those hands were but small hands of a child, but those would be the hands that would have the furthest reach into the future. Those were unsullied hands.

The irony of it had been what had prompted him to visit the girl of the woman who had given him his self back, and chose her. In giving him his memory back her mother had given him knowledge. Knowledge she had not even had herself.

He wondered if she would have still helped him had she know that the Admiral and his formidable friends had infiltrated the group she had trusted all along. The shield that could not protect. More irony he had laughed at. Even a shield had to be yielded like a weapon, and those who yielded it had been eaten away by the Admiral's venom. The many-headed snake. He had not known what he had touched when he had tried to sink his teeth in Khan Noonien Singh. The snake had poisoned itself on his flesh. The older venom.

When she had come to them for help that night, after releasing him, they had killed her for it, and they had used her daughter as a test-subject. The incurable sickness that had been eating away on her. Deborah Carter-Hampton had given him his life and her own life, and he owed her two lifes for this. Her bravery had been marginal, but enough to tip the scale.

So he had paid her back, he would not go with debts to those who had done right by him. His blood will cure it all. It had cured the girl, it would save that man, and it would save that organisation. And in the end, he would free that pathetic world that would rather be ruled by a lie of peace than fight honestly and openly under his rule.

He despises earth more than he had despised it before taking himself and his people from it's face. He wishes they would never have awakened him. He wishes they had never forced him to live like one of them, among them. He had seen the taint up close.

His gaze flickers back to earth, now bigger, now reachable, now destructible. He would crush Star Fleet's Headquarters, would rip the head off the snake. “Where one had falls, two grow back,” had Marcus said when he had forced him to work for Section 31, when he had sworn he would kill him. But growing two new heads was not a trifle thing, was it. And who would ensure that the heads not would attack themselves in the end?

He would bring his legacy of war upon them. They had woken him to bring war after all, and now they would get the cleansing war. A laugh broke out of him that echoed over the bridge of the _Vengeance_.

Earth was much closer now, and his own, blue eyes were fixed upon the bright spots of blue, green, grey and brown. He refused to close his eyes and let himself fall into darkness. This once he wanted to see light instead. He wanted to see the burning fire and smouldering ashes of destruction.

* * *

 

_2259, San Francisco_

Maria stands in her office at Star Fleet Headquarters, on an intercom with Admiral Fury. They had been able to recover a great deal of the things Marcus' had tried to cover up in London.

Phil had sent a great mass of data their way at the same time when he had sent Admiral Marcus the video-transmission in which he had 'confessed'. Only that they had not found it at first. There were plans of Torpedoes and more information on the Vengeance. And… more, that they were working on deciphering. Phil had been using a code none of them knew, not a S.H.I.E.L.D. standard code. Fury wondered if this was information about Khan, and that he had made up the code to make sure that not even that maniac could find out.

He is about to tell her more about some blue prints they had when Fury stops, and looks at something to his right. He frowns, almost scowls. "Hill, we have a security breach. Turn on the _Observer_."

Maria turns around and does so. The _Observer_ is a collective of protection enhanced satellites called ‘Watchers’, circling around earth, in all levels of the atmosphere. A holograph appears on her own right, projecting miniature earth before her, with an alarming, red dot over the northern hemisphere, over North America. She frowns. "Computer, enlarge to 37° 47′ N."

The alarming spot seems to be heading for earth, breaking another security level of 'Watchers' that Star Fleet has cycling earth at all time. The last layer even has automatic defence, before anything can enter the Thermosphere that has not been allowed. It wouldn't get triggered, however, it that were to be a…

She hears Fury utter curses, as her own holographs zooms in, presenting a cleaner image to her. Her breath gets choked up in her throat. It's a massive ship, and it doesn't look like its flying. That ship is falling, and she recognized it from the blue print that she had just seen. “The _Vengeance_.” What the hell had happened.

Maria holds her breath for a second. Thousand and one thought cross her mind. The Klingons, the torpedoes, _Khan, -_ before Fury’s voice bellowed through the room through the intercom. "THE FUCKER." She looks at him, and sees that he's no longer staring at his own projection of the _Observer_. He has another holograph up, hammering away on keys. "The system's overridden. Marcus had them overridden to protect his illegal ship."

Maria glances at the _Vengeance_. She types in her own orders, and the _Observer_ projects a bright, yellow line into the holograph. Too close. "Sir, we don't have time to reboot the system. We need to start evacuating. Marcus is heading his ship on a collision course with the headquarters. The _Enterprise_ is trailing her, but it seems like she's falling as well."

Fury doesn't even look up from what he's doing. She can't really make out what it is. "Get Agent Fade, Agent Depaolo and Agent Hanska and send them out with their teams, Code 0-3-3. Set of an Alarm at the Academy building and the Dorms. Section 31 has set up a Computer Shutdown for S.H.I.E.L.D. we can't get to The Red Alarm Channels, so set off something else. Fire, Infiltration, Terroristic Attack, whatever. The wharf is in lockdown and Captain Allardyce and Captain Collins are the only ones who are in their Ships right now, but I'll try to get them in an Intercom and see if we can get them there in time to beam people out of the ships and buildings and maybe instigate an intercept course with a tractor beam. Tell Sitwell to see if he can contact the _Vengeance_ or the _Enterprise_ , or at least scan them to find out what the fuck is going on. And then, Hill," he looks up briefly. "Get the fuck out there yourself. " Maria nods. "Aye, Sir." With another glance at the Holograph she gets to work.

* * *

 

_2259, London_

Darcy's flight gets cancelled. She sits at the airport with Nejem sitting on her right, constantly on the phone, frantically trying to keep her voice low. She had thrust a Coke in Darcy's hand and told her to let her 'figure this out'. Darcy notes the tension and the hint of worry in the voice and wonders what is going on that has this woman so on edge. And then someone switches the channel on the screens hanging around anywhere that are broadcasting advertisement 24/7. They switch it to a news channel, and at first Darcy isn't sure what she sees. She sees debris and destruction and something that looks like one of the Spaceship Models Uncle Phil had collected. The line beneath comes to life with a text, and it says _Ship of Deadnaught-class crashed in San Francisco_. And Darcy chokes on her coke.

Nejem whirls around as Darcy gets up, and walks in the direction of one of those screens. When the woman makes a grab for her shoulder, Darcy shakes it off roughly. Nejem doesn't grab for her again, but stands at her side, staring up at the screen for a moment before turning away and bellowing something into her phone again.

This can't be. Darcy knows her arms are shaking, and she tries to hold unto the Teddy and the Coke even harder, hoping that Nejem doesn't see it. San Francisco. The place where Maria is. Her voice is barely audible when she stands up and whispers. " _Please. Not her, too_." She doesn't know who she directs those words at. She isn't one to believe. Uncle Phil had been, but Mum and Maria hadn't, so Darcy hadn't really either. But right now, it feels terrifyingly like someone is trying to take all the people close to her from her. And the fear constricts her throat even further.

Darcy closes her eyes and goes down into a crouched position, putting the Teddy and the Coke at the floor to her side, burying her face against her knees, hugging them to her chest, not bothering with Nejem who keeps saying her name now, urgently. " _Please._ " Darcy keeps whispering. " _Please."_

* * *

 

_2259, San Francisco_

Darcy doesn't get to her foster family that day. And not the following day either. Lieutenant Nejem stays with her in a hotel for about a week, before they get clearance that the situation in San Francisco is under control again.

Darcy still doesn't speak much, though Aminah tries her best and gets her to say a few words more every day. She tells Darcy about her cat, too, called Sabre-toothed. And when Darcy tells her a bit about herself – if only small bits, like that she used to hate her singing lessons – Aminah listens. And talks to her like she'd talk with a grown up, not with a baby. Never once does she say that everything will be 'alright' or that it will 'hurt less' and that 'time will heal everything'. And Darcy likes that. Instead, she tells Darcy of her fiancé that she lost. She tells her that he is still with her, and that she will forever be sure that he truly is there. And that really is comforting.

Actually, the woman is very nice, and Darcy knows that she's being ungrateful. It's not the woman's fault that no one else is here for her. That she isn't Maria, or Uncle Coulson, or her mother. She doesn't seem to take it personally, though. When Maria comes to pick up Darcy from the Airport in San Fransciso a week later and Darcy runs straight to her and into her arms, Lieutenant Nejem's smile seems almost relieved to have her off her hands. Which Darcy, in turn, doesn't mind.

She's all over Maria and is just so, so happy to see her. She's a bit worried, because there are bruises in Maria's face and one of her arms is put in a cast, but Maria waves it of, and instead compliments the beautiful Teddy Darcy holds unto. Darcy says it's a gift from the hospital and feels a bit guilty about lying, so instead she changes topics and tells her that Aminah taught her how to use a Taser. Maria looks incredulous for a moment before she laughs and Aminah smiles almost proudly.

Maria invites both of them to eat at her place before Nejem will bring her to the Coopers, and Nejem accepts. While Maria and she prepare a meal in the kitchen, talking in hushed voice about probably boring things, Darcy sits in front of the TV, her Teddy sitting at her side, her fingers fiddling with her mother's pendant around her wrist.

When the news come up she turns the TV off, though. She doesn't want to see the news. The pictures of the former destruction, and then the picture of John. They blame him for everything that happened. They say he is a former member of Starfleet who went mad. Darcy knows its not true. He has never told her everything, yeah, but she knows that he isn't a former member of Starfleet. He wasn't even human, he had said. But he never gave her much. Not much of the truth. And it makes her wonder, a bit. She can't trust the news, because clearly they are lying. But she doesn't know if maybe John did something bad. He said he would do anything to protect his family, after all.

She wished she could ask someone. But she had had to promise him to never talk about him with anyone. Especially not Maria or Uncle Phil. And Darcy was pretty good in keeping a secret. She was like her grandmother that way. If she'd start asking questions now it would only lead to other people asking questions, too. And whatever John might have done, he had done it to protect his family.

Darcy would have done anything to protect her family as well. She gets that. So she stays silent. The only questions she asks during lunch are about the Coopers. And then, with a moment of hesitation, about when Uncle Phil's funeral will be. And if she could go.

* * *

 

_2259, San Francisco_

The Coopers are a nice, elderly couple. Maria accompanies Nejem and Darcy to them, she can't help but to want to meet them too. They don't seem to mind, offer them tea as Darcy is urged to go and explore the house a bit. Maria eyes them, knowing that they could take her glances as signs of suspicion or possibly as rudeness, but she can't help herself.

Ben Cooper is a tall, lean man. There are wrinkles on his dark skin, lots of them, but they're the good kind. Wrinkles around the corners of his mouth and around his eyes, telling stories of smiles and laughter. And on his nose are slight dents, giving away that he seemingly usually wears glasses. That is a bit unusual, as most people these days just got their eyes lasered or enhanced, but it is only a minor detail. It's a detail that seems to endear him to Darcy, at least. Especially when he compliments her glasses.

Jodie Cooper has a bit of an Irish accent when she speaks, and she seems more serious than her husband. A bit clip and to the point, in her manners, but still nice. Maria can't help but to be fascinated by her hair, which is a mixture of white and blonde, pulled up into a very elegant hairstyle of past times. Unlike Ben, who has greeted them in comfortable clothes and slippers, Jodie is dressed in a pencil skirt and a green blouse. Ben is 66 by now, and Jodie is 55, and as odd as the couple seems, they have been married for thirty-seven years now.

She's not their first foster-child, they tell them, as if they need to reassure them. Maybe they have noted Maria's stare. That is how they met Phil Coulson, Ben tells them with a slight, amused shrug. They have taken care of Phil themselves, after his mother had been placed into a mental health hospital. He had only been with them for a year, before he moved to Starfleet Academy, but he had been a good boy.

When Phil had been twenty three, still pretty new in the ranks of Star Fleet himself, he had turned up at their place, a boy of fifteen at his tow. To this day they had no idea where he had picked the boy up, Phil had offered no explanation, but that the boy needed someone to really care for him. The boy, Clinton, had turned out to be a bit of wild child, Jodie had thrown in there. Maria notes that a small smile tugs at Jodie's lips there, and there is a bit of softness in the otherwise serious face. It's something that she's glad to see. That they really care for the kids they take on.

Ben continues his story. He's pretty proud that all of the three kids they had raised – one before Phil – keep checking back in with them. Phil and Clint had become a bit brotherly, he likes to think. Or so he says. Maria thinks the name might ring a bell, but she hasn't cared to check for any of the kids they had raised. She simply hadn't had the time so far. She makes a mental note to do that later.

Jodie brings in some cookies now, as she explains that still, for the moment Darcy would stay the only child they would raise, as per orders of Admiral Fury. He seems to have gone out of his way to point out that the child has had it rough and has lost too many people in the recent past. He doesn't want her to be flooded with new faces too soon.

Maria is glad to hear this, if a bit surprised. She hasn't really expected for Fury to care that much for Darcy. Especially not as the situation of Star Fleet was at such a fragile state right now and he surely had other things to worry about. But maybe she shouldn't be _too_ surprised.

Admiral Fury has always cared for every single one of the men and women working for him. In a way, Deborah had been working for him, and she had died on line of duty. Phil had been his best man, had he had died on line of duty. He had taken both of them from Darcy, and it seemed like a Fury-thing to do to make sure that Darcy wouldn't want for anything in life as far as he could influence it. It makes Maria smile, and it takes a bit of the weight from her shoulders, takes a bit of the guilt away, makes the burden of regret bearable again.

* * *

 

_2259, Unknown Location, England_

When he wakes up, it is to darkness. A dark room, empty save for the bed he is in. Everything around him is silent, and for a moment he thinks he's deaf, before he notes the rasping sound of his own breath. The silence doesn't last for long, though, and is out screamed by his own thoughts.

Worries, for his girl. Worries that Darcy maybe didn't live. That something went wrong. Worries that his message hadn't been transmitted and that Khan had not been stopped, as he had intended. That _Marcus_ had not been stopped. And feelings of guilt, because had acted on his selfish wish to protect the girl. That protecting her had become more necessary to him than protection the world he had sworn loyalty too.

And then there is a new sound, even louder than his increasingly painful thoughts. Loud, heavy steps of combat boots seem to come from far away, closer, and the sound of folds of leather flapping against each other that is familiar to him. When Phil turns his head, a light flickers on in Admiral Fury’s hand, standing right beside his bed. Phil had been wondering if he was dead for a second, but he knows that the Admiral couldn't possibly be dead. So this was not the afterlife.

The relief that floods through him in that moment is a feeling that he will probably never forget. He had put his life in the hands of a criminal, and he had had no reason to trust him. Yet still, the words of Khan had turned out true. A bewildering thought. The second vial of blood had done it's deed, he has survived the explosion. He is alive.

Phil has been in London, in that dark room, for what Fury claimed to be a bit more than a week. To the world, this was the amount of time he had been officially dead. There even had been a memorial for him, because no-one knew if he would make it through this week.

The doctors couldn't explain what had happened, not even _after_ Phil had explained to them the deal he had made with Harrison – no, _Khan_ – that day. A rash and selfish deal, and he expects repercussions. None of which had come yet.

Fury had not said a word about it, after Phil had given him his report. He seemed annoyed, yes, especially when Phil had not been able to offer him an explanation as for why Khan would even care to save his and Darcy's life. Or, to be precise, he can't offer an explanation that would be true. Because the only thing Khan had told him, when Phil had asked himself, had been a very ghastly smile and two words: For Deborah. He is sure he missed the joke in that one.

In the past three days that Phil was awake there had been test with him and his blood. There were traces, and some of the doctors believed that the Augment-blood had acted like a virus that was altering the DNA of his cells. But so far they had been unable to narrow it down and to prove the theory. And they had been unable to recreate it, too.

However, judging by the report they had gotten from Carol Marcus of what had transpired on the _Enterprise_ , another person had been revived, so to speak, by the blood of Khan. James T. Kirk, the young captain, was now under medical supervision and would have to be closely monitored to see if there were alterations in him as well. But they couldn't exactly lock him away like they did with Phil. He envies him for it, in a very small, private moment. Envies the young guy to have escaped the clutches of the S.H.I.E.L.D.-Scientists and to be out there, with the people he loved, living his life – or picking up whatever was left.

It doesn't need to be said out loud, but Phil is sure that this wouldn't be an option for him. He has to live by the news he hears of the nurses and the doctors. Knowing Darcy was save, well and not locked up was enough to go with for a while, though. And maybe at some point Fury’s plan would change, when they were sure what had happened that day in the Headquarters, when Section 31 had tried to shut out S.H.I.E.L.D..

The next step on Fury’s agenda was to inform Hill that he is alive. Something is off, and Fury had a feeling that Section 31 isn't their only enemy inside of Star Fleet any longer. They need everyone working on this. And as long as this isn't settled he wants to keep Phil as an ace up his sleeve. And Phil? Well. He is in no position to complain. The fact that Fury would still have him on his team at all is more than he could have hoped for.

So when Fury takes him from his black room a couple of days later, into an elevator and a few floors lower, he doesn't even ask where he's being taken to. Nick’s statement that he has to show him something is worrisome, but he doesn't really expect anything. Somehow, after having been dead, it's hard to be surprised anymore.

But that is what happens, in the end, when he walks into a room with 73 cryostasis-cells. The hall is vast beneath the grid platform they are standing on. Nick has his arms crossed on his back, and he seems to be positively revolted by the view, he's scowling at it. Phil feels a bit of wonder, a bit of worry. Even when he had been working in the security of Section 31 he had never been this close to Marcus’ most treasured weapon. "Those are the Augments of Section 31, Sir. How did they fall in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands?"

Fury doesn't look in his direction. His gaze seems fixed on one of the cells. "Section 31 was officially disbanded by Admiral Nogura. He has put the cells in our care, for the time being." Phil can't help but smile weakly at the soft growl in Fury’s voice. If there's one man in the entirety of Star Fleet that Nick would avoid to go up against it was Nogura Heihachiro. The one man that Marcus had been fearing as well.

Nick turns now and goes down the stairs to his right. Phil follows him. For a moment they walk between the rows, and Phil can't help put look at those faces, so blank, as if they were dead, and not just asleep. When they have almost reached the other end of the hall, Fury pauses in front of one of the cells. Phil recognizes the sleeping figure of Khan. Is this what Fury wanted to show him? What happened to the man? Officially, the story of Commander Harrison had been kept alive, and there had been falsified amateur videos of a trial spread in cyberspace, which had appeased the public. Officially, those 'leaked' trials had resulted in Harrison's exile to a prison on moon.

When Phil looks at Nick, though, his eye isn't trained on Khan anymore. He looks at Phil. "Do you remember how many Augments were on the _Botany Bay_ when you found her?" Phil frowns a bit. He isn't happy to remember that mission. It seems like in a different lifetime. A lifetime when Deborah had still been there and life had looked so positive. They had been so young.

"Eighty, Sir." Nick nods, and now the wrinkles between his brows seem to deepen.

"Seventy-three are in this room right now. We know that Marcus has been doing research on these Augments and that Khan was only the first successful one of them. We don't know what happened to the unsuccessful ones. Or to their corpses." Phil frowns a bit. Seven dead Augments. Deborah had never mentioned them. Marcus' had only brought her in when he had started a certain phase on Khan. Deborah had been specialised in recalibrations of the cerebrum.

"What do you know of the Eugenic Wars, Phil?" Phil rubs his temples, trying not to show the dizziness he feels for having been up for so long already.

"I did only very minor research on it after we found the _Botany Bay_ , Sir."

Nick makes a vague gesture. "Tell all you know about the Augment's side in these wars. Paraphrase the events." Nick seems tense, but also unusually distracted.

Phil starts, a bit hesitant. "There were originally two hundred and eighty-four Augments fighting against the human race, intending to take over the rule over the earth. They split in two parties, however, when it became clear that they could not win the war, despite their superior abilities. The major group of one-hundred and seventy-two followed Khan Noonien Singh. There was a group of about seventy ruled by Yoon Min Ji and the rest were fractured in smaller parties. And there was a group of about ten Augments that changed sides to fight alongside humans, all of which ended up dead. Min Ji's and Khan's groups first seemed to work alongside against the smaller groups, until Khan betrayed Min Ji. Then they started decimating each other until Min Ji's group was mostly slaughtered. When she was down to twelve men and women she surrendered, and they decided to give up. The Augments that were left followed Khan, who put all of them on a ship in cryostasis and they left earth."

Nick turns and begins to walk again. Slowly, though. "How many Augments in total survived that war?"

Phil's head hurts, and he isn't sure if this is from all the history and the numbers now or still a side effect of walking around. "Ninety, to our knowledge. Eighty were on that ship with Khan. We know five were found dead later, as they had defected Khan's group and he supposedly killed them before leaving earth. Four had tried to pass as human and live underground, but they were found out twenty years after the war and put on a war trial. One committed suicide."

Nick rubbed a hand over his bald head, a clear gesture that something was displeasing him. Phil couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why they were talking about that now. They had reached the end of the hall by now, and Nick opened a door to a much smaller room. A supervision room with an adorned lab. Through the glass wall that parted the supervision-room from the lab Phil could see a man in a white coat and with glasses, standing over a microscope.

"This man over there claims that our numbers are wrong. He claims that of the ten Augments that didn't leave with Khan and fought alongside humans, five didn't die during the war and at least two are alive and one is active."

Phil stares at Nick, and then he stares at the man. Something seems familiar about that unshaven face and the almost bald head. He can't put the pieces of the puzzle together, though. Maybe it is the pain medication. "How could that be?" Phil murmurs.

Nick, at his side, shrugs. "The four that had tried to go undercover and had been put on trials had been among the ten working on the side of the humans. They had never tried to go undercover, humanity has merely betrayed them. The trails were an excuse to put them away. And if that man is right, put away means put in a fucking lab. They had been used for experiments, and he says that he is eighty-percent sure that one of them is out there right now."

Phil is sure that he doesn't want to know, but he asks anyway. It seems so absurd. "And the fifth one?" Nick goes over to one of the desks and picks up a very old photograph and hands it to Phil. The paper is rough in Phil's hand, a sign of it's age. The face of a blonde man with blue eyes stares up at him, with a solemn expression. It's familiar. Too familiar. He is pretty sure that the lab starts to spin around him, and he grabs an edge of the table himself, to steady himself. "This is…"

Nick nods. "The one who allegedly committed suicide. Another one who fought on the human side. He became pretty famous under the codename 'Captain America' later. A bit of a hero. According to this man, that one has not died but been put in a Hibernation-cell, and he claims that he was the one who did it and now he wants to awaken him again."

Phil doesn't even try to hide it at this point. He pulls over a chair and sits down, staring at the picture in his hand. Of course. He remembers that face. He grew up hearing bedtime stories of the brave man. But not as a fighter in the Eugenics war. But as a fighter in the War of The Great Nuclear Winter. And he doesn't remember the story telling him that that man was an Augment, either.

He looks up at Nick, tries to find a sign in his expression of what to make of this, of Fury’s own thoughts on the matter. But there is nothing. Fury’s face is carefully neutral. And then Phil turns his head again, looking at the man in the lab. "How could Captain America have been an Augment-Fighter in the Eugenic's war and then been put to sleep _and_ be a fighter in the Nuclear-Winter-War and then died? And just who does he claim to be, to have been alive back then? Another Augment?"

Nick shakes his head in defeat. It was clear that he wanted to laugh it all away, call it absurd, the fantasy of an old man. But something seemed to have persuaded him otherwise. Maybe the name, that came over his lips mostly toneless. "That man is Dr. Abraham Erskine."

Phil puts the picture of Captain America away, and stares harder at the man in the coat, blissfully unaware of the audience he had. And yes, Phil remembers seeing the face in history books. He was one of the men who _made_ the Augments. And according to those very same history books he was killed by a failed experiment going by 'Red Skull', who later played a major part in the Nuclear-Winter-War. Captain America famously died the death of a martyr defeating the 'Red Skull'. Phil looks at Nick. "How is that possible. Why would he be _here_ and _now_?"

Nick touches the screen in the middle of the table, and types something. A holograph gets conjured up. On the screen is the picture of a man Phil recognizes as Howard Stark, of Stark Industries. "Erskine claims that he put himself and Captain America in a cryostasis with a timed computer to wake them up a century later. Apparently, they woke up on one of Howard Stark's properties. He didn't give me details, but from what I gather Howard _hacked_ our dear Captain here into Star Fleet's database to give him the chance to go through Star Fleet Academy and it just wasn't ever discovered.”

The way nick clenched his teeth for a moment told Phil everything that he needed to know about what Nick thought about that bit of the story. It certainly was something in Howard’s capabilities, and it sounded frighteningly probable.

“He became the Captain of the _USS Freedom_ within eight years, one of the youngest Captains to have ever been. And then there is the story we all know, the one where the action figures and the movies come from. Just that instead of being blasted to pieces with his ship, dying the martyr we thought him to be, Erskine managed to beam him out. Something that shouldn't have been technically possible at that time, and our people are still working on trying to find out if there's substance to that part of the story. Erskine claims that he put the Captain to sleep to protect him, and that he hid the man. He himself had been working for Stark Industries under a new name ever since, for thirty years, hoping to just live and die peacefully. At least that bit seems to be proven."

Phil crosses his arms over his chest, constantly glancing back and forth between Nick and that supposed Erskine-guy. "Hypothetically speaking. If this story were to be true. Why would he show up here now? Why would he want the Captain to be awakened again now? Why would he come to us with that?"

Nick sighs, and it's one of the deepest and most annoyed sounding sighs Phil has heard from the man today. He feels bad for him, because he has to deal with it. But a part of him really, really wants to hear a good reason now. Wants to believe this. Wants good news, for once, instead of bad news. They could use a Captain America right now.

"Well. Because Erskine here thinks that those four Augments that someone had experimented on? He thinks they are on the rise. He thinks that there's a whole army on the rise, and a new tyranny is building up. And right beneath our feet, Phil. And you know what? With what happened lately? With Marcus' madness? I'm inclined to fucking believe the guy."

A moment of silence settles between them, and Phil knows that the darkness that seems to clutch his heart for a moment in a cold grasp is fear. He is afraid, because when he finally makes something out in Nick's face, it's worry. Worry, and tiredness. And that is not how he ever wanted to see the man he's been looking up to for so long. It's for the first time that he realises that Nick Fury is a man of 55 already. A man who as seen too much death in his life. "I think we need to prepare for a war, Phil."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N  
> Hi there, folks! So. As I mentioned on tumblr already, this chapter was mostly me trying to create a place for the Marvel characters in the Star Trek Universe and trying to explain what they were doing during 'Into Darkness'. Which means that there's a lot of things to clear up for you. Prepare for a heavy load of A/N.
> 
> Yes, there's a Loki-Quote in there. Barnebucky is a TaserTricks-Shipper, and it seemed very appropriate to use it ;)
> 
> I'm a bit fuzzy on ages. In my mind, Maria is in this story about twenty-seven, the same age I put Carol Marcus down as. She and Phil both graduated from Star Fleet Academy early on, though clearly not in the same class or year. Phil, David and Deborah were of the same age, and they were in their last year by the time Maria entered. However, Deborah and Maria stayed in touch, as Deborah was Maria's and Carol's tutor at the Academy. Then ten years passed, yadda yadda, and in 2259 Phil would be about 38.
> 
> I like Carol Marcus. Let me just say that. But I think it would be damn hard to sneak unto a ship. Especially in my version here, when you have the eyes of S.H.I.E.L.D. trained unto Captain Kirk already. During the movie I wondered how she could have been able to get on that ship at all, if the security is worth anything. So, my version is that Maria and Sitwell conjured up something really quickly. It was designed to give her a cover for as long as possible, but both knew that there was a possibility of her being found out if someone looked too hard. As it happened in the movie.
> 
> Err, yes. I think that a family-tree is in order here, so you don't wonder too much about the few relatives Darcy has in this story. I made a family tree that you can find on my tumbler (link to my tumblr on my profile), I tagged it 'familytree'. But, my actual point is, for those who don't care for details: Darcy's only living relatives are a sixteen year old Sharon Lee Carter (her cousin) and a twenty-four year old Elizabeth "Betty" Ross (her mother's cousin), who just happens to be missing right now.
> 
> The whole things about the crash. With that Observer-Programm and all that. Completely made up, to be honest, but it just drove me nuts how completely unprepared and passive Star Fleet seemed to be about two falling ships. Where were all the other ships trying to fucking do something about the situation? It doesn't make sense. I couldn't let this go unnoted. So. Someone *cough cough* was actively trying to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. from intervening. That's what happened.
> 
> In the original Star Trek Series' and Movies there is mention of Admiral Nogura Heihachiro, though his rank is never mentioned. What we do know is that he seems to be a very touch no-bullshit kind of guy and was friends with 'the Kirk's'. And that he outranked Kirk even after Kirk returned to earth and became Chief of Starfleet Operations. It is a wide-spread guess among Trekies that Nogura was either Head of Star Fleet at the time or at least head of Star Fleet Command. I'm going with the former.
> 
> There is no 'great' war after The Eugenics War – at least not in cannon. However, Kirk mentions several times that there have been many 'small'er nuclear wars on earth after The Eugenic War and several perios of 'nuclear winter'. I just used that and made up the War of The Great Nuclear Winter, that happened thirty years before this story takes place.
> 
> As for the ending… surprise! You didn't think I'd pass up on the chance on getting everyone else involved as well, right? Just with a bit of a twist. Come on! Super Soldier and Augments seem to be the same thing to me – except for becoming super buff, maybe. And yeah. I had to keep Erskine alive. I love the guy anyway. And err…what else? Oh, yes. Erskine is human. And, in a way, Steve is just a very poor guy for having been frozen twice. First he fought in the war against the Augments, then he let himself put to sleep. Woke up, fought in the world war alongside with Howard and - *caugh* - Peggy. And then he got frozen again. Weird stuff, huh? I hope this was a surprise ending.
> 
> Oh and on that note – of course Phil doesn't stay dead. I would never stray from MCU-canon that far ;) There's enough death in this story already anyway.
> 
> So, after this chapter there will be an Interlude before Chapter 4. As I'm in the middle of my exam period don't expect the next update to be before the 25th of July. Consider me absent from the internet in the meantime. Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it :)


	4. Interlude I

 

* * *

 

 

_2258, Unknown Location_

_When he wakes up, he is not alone. He is cuffed to a wall, and there is pain, and voices._

_There is emptiness inside him, and a terrifying lack of memories, but they tell him that he doesn't need that. He doesn't need a past. He doesn't need a future. He just needs the present. He just needs to do as they say. And so he does. Because he is good at what they tell him to do._

_When goes to asleep thirty-four hours late again, there is blood on his hands._

* * *

 

2259, Unknown Location, England

When Fury brings Maria to the Place where Coulson now lives in the Underground Base, she feels uncharacteristically wobbly in her legs. She had not realized how close the two of them had grown since Deborah's death, over the time of Darcy's sickness. How much she had even missed him had been lost on her in the chaos following his death – she had not had the luxury to mourn the death of someone who had silently grown to become a friend of hers despite all their different opinions. So when he stands before her with his British smile, pale and stressed and a bit wary of her reaction, Maria sends professionalism to hell and just hugs him. He is a regret she doesn't have to bear.

* * *

 

_2260, Unknown Location, England_

_The first expedition that S.H.I.E.L.D. sends out on Dr. Erskine's orders is a failure. The team returns empty handed. S.H.I.E.L.D. tries to get in touch with Howard Stark's only son Anthony Stark to see if there are any documents left of the Augment and where Howard might have put him, but it seems that Anthony has not been informed of Howard's doings and it is generally decided to not get him involved for the time being._

* * *

 

2260, San Francisco

Darcy briefly meets a guy named Kirk at some event about a Starship. She is only there because it also serves as a memorial for what happened a year ago in London and here, in Frisco. Darcy didn't really want to go, because she holds her memorials for her mother, her father and for Phil in private, but she can't really not go. The Fury-Man had even invited her himself, which had pleased Jodie to no end. Jodie also seems to swoon over this Kirk-guy – which is yuck, Darcy thinks. Jodie is so old. That Kirk-guy doesn't seem to mind, though. He is very nice with Jodie. He is pretty nice to her, too, though he is mostly nice to Maria and her friend Carol, who both are with her and Jodie today. Especially to Carol, Darcy thinks, when she notices the way he touches Carol's elbow. Still. Nice is _nice,_ as long as it's not awkward. When he tells her that he is an orphan as well, and that he made it to Captain of Starfleet, it's pretty sweet, even. Though, of course, she didn't need him to tell her that she can be what she wants to be. That's something fairly obvious, right? But, she appreciates it. And she can't help but mention that to Carol as well – who is so totally in love with the guy, despite what Maria thinks or doesn't think about that.

* * *

 

2260, San Francisco

Carol turns up on Maria's doorstep a few days after the memorial, informing her that Captain Kirk invited her to join him on the five-year-mission the _Enterprise_ has just been assigned to. Carol has always been more like Maria, preferring earth-bound missions to actual missions on a spaceship. But Maria knows why Carol's taking this one, instead of the job offer for a position with S.H.I.E.L.D. She's found that place in her life. Or rather – she found the people that give her the feeling of home. The feeling her father had never been able to give her and the place she hunted ever since she was a kid. That is, after all, why she and Maria had their fight so many years ago. Because if there's one thing Carol hates, it's being lonely. And Maria had forgotten about that when she had been too enthralled with her work. So Maria's happy for her friend for her sake – friend, now again, finally - but she knows she'll miss her. Carol would have made a great asset to the ranks of S.H.I.E.L.D.

* * *

 

_2261, Berlin_

_Famous Scientist Professor Dr. Paul. R. Klüger gets abducted. The government is not very forthcoming with what is going on, but it gets leaked to the media that, apparently, Klüger has been working on a new form of cybernetic enhancements. The abductors are probably trying to force Klüger into giving up his information on his research. For five days secret organisations all over the world are trying to locate the whereabouts of the abductors, but in vain. The doctor's corpse turns up at the coast of Aberystwyth, Wales, five days later._

* * *

 

2261, London

For her tenth birthday, Ben and Jodie take Darcy on a trip to England. Darcy isn't sure if she even wants to go back, and is mostly tense and worried, and excited, but Ben distracts her with stories of his own teenage hood in England. He even knew her Grandma back then, which really get's him all of her attention. They stay in a different part of London than the one Darcy grew up in, which is good, and they don't push her into anything. But when she feels ready, she sneaks out, alone. She has to do this alone. She visit's her mother's grave first, and then she goes to visit the only girl from school she stayed in touch with. Sarah and her eat ice cream, and Sarah complains about the boys at school, and it feels so good, and so right, and so wrong. So Darcy flees, kind of, after two hours, to wander the streets alone. England is a bittersweet memory for her. Her feet know all the places, but her heart aches. It's not her London anymore, and she's pretty sure she doesn't want it to be hers. But when she returns to the park and climbs her tree, she remembers the friend she made here. And sitting in that tree, remembering his promise that he would come for her some day, that she helped him to be happy… well, it helps. It helps to see that this London is still a bit of hers. And that change maybe isn't bad. That not only bad things came out of this. And she feels well enough to return to Ben and Jodie. Jodie fusses a bit about the state her clothes are in, because she tore a hole into her skirt trying to climb the tree, but Ben doesn't mention it. He just offers her to play chess with him, like he always does. They take her through London the next day, too, and any place they take her to doesn't get to be as weirdly important as that park or the graveyard. Darcy decides that she should make it a yearly thing to come back and visit. So she won't lose her London altogether.

* * *

 

2262, San Francisco

It's for Christmas that Darcy learns that Maria's dating Aminah Nejem now. It's during one of the bi-weekly-movie nights with just her and Maria that she lets it slip, and Darcy is amused by how embarrassed Maria is about the matter. She probably had wanted to keep it quiet – because, relationship at the office and all – but Darcy is happy for her. Aminah is nice, and very cool. She still teaches Darcy all kinds of valuable stuff, though nothing will be as cool as her first taser-Lesson. Still, it's useful, and she's pretty sure that it is knowledge no one else would teach her. Like, how to sneak out of her window at night and how to sneak in again at morning. And just like Aminah's lessons stay a secret between her and Darcy, Darcy promises to Maria to not tell anyone about her relationship just yet. Lest someone might find out that Maria is actually a big, old squishy lover of cheesy love stories and chick-flicks, and might actually be really, really romantic.

* * *

 

_2263, Seoul_

_There's an attack on the government of the United Korean Nations. The President, Hong Chun Hei, is killed and there's an uproar around earth. No one can explain how it happened, and there's no footage on the Assassin. S.H.I.E.L.D. is unto it, but can't find anything either. The new Leader is elected within two weeks, and promises a change of policies. Admiral Fury suspects that maybe Section 31 has not been fully disbanded after all._

* * *

 

2263, Unknown Location, England

When Darcy enrols in the Star Fleet Private School Maria is there to take pictures during the ceremony. Later, she has them printed and puts them in a very old fashioned photo album and takes that one to Phil. She knows he asked for regular updates on Darcy, and get's a bit of camera footage and pictures here and there. But it's still different to have pictures where the thirteen year old proudly smiles at the camera, dressed in her school uniform, looking so much like Deborah, and so much like David. And though Maria has always loved Deborah, from the moment she became her mentor in the Academy, it must be different to see these pictures for Phil, who knew Deborah even longer – and who has a much similar picture of him and David when they enrolled in Star Fleet Private School together. Phil's quiet expression, as he stares at the picture and traces his fingers over Darcy's face, tells her that he thinks the same.

* * *

 

2264, Unknown Location, England

Phil is allowed to leave the base for the first time, in company of Erskine, a squad and Director Fury. There is still no absolute clearance that there are no side-effects to the serum made of the Augment blood. Erskine claims that it should be named after the serum he once made to create the Augment's - 'Super Soldier Serum II' - and wants to get in touch with another person who he had been working together with still under his pseudonym at Stark Industries, Joseph Reinstein. The attempts to contact Dr. Bruce Banner through the alias fails, though, because the man apparently has been involved in some failed experiments and is now on the run. S.H.I.E.L.D. promises to try and find him.

* * *

 

2264, Ohio

Maria spends her only holiday off for the year with Darcy. The girl has a weird obsession with monsters right now – though maybe that's normal for her fourteen year old girl? – and she wants to go and hunt Sasquatch. So that's what they do. Camping, walking around, bonfire, marshmallows and telling stories, though the stories aren't always scary. When Darcy asks her to tell her story about her father, David, and her mother – like how they met – it all turns into a very sentimental trip. Maria is happy to tell Darcy about Uncle Phil's and David's friendship since their childhood, and she's also happy to tell her how David fell head over heals for her mother in Star Flee Academy, where Phil introduced them. She is less forthcoming about the story how David died, but it's good for both of them to talk about it. And though Maria has been itching all over to get back to work – well, she doesn't regret this trip one bit.

* * *

 

_2265, San Francisco_

_The Enterprise returns from her five year mission. Star Fleet celebrates the crew and proudly announces that the Enterprise is now officially the first Earth ships to have reached the edge of the Milky Way Galaxy. A great conference is held, in which the Captain and the First Officer hold a speech on the many adventures of their mission, in front of all Admirals and Captains of Star Fleet. It is decided afterwards to honour all members of the crew with honour badges. After the ceremony and more in private, Captain James T. Kirk is asked to visit the heads of allied Governments across the globe and advertise a new peace treaty._

* * *

 

2265, San Francisco

She celebrates her fifteenth birthday in a dark forest in England, and a camping trip. The twenty people she invites are a bit weirded out by the adults she brings along at first, but Aminah has all of the teenagers wrapped around her little finger in a heartbeat. Maybe because she's "cool", or maybe because she used the word "bullshit". Maria looks uncomfortable at the beginning, but Aminah helps her relax a bit, and after a while she's sure that the kids won't do anything horrible. Aside from the music they chose to play for (what they call) 'dancing'. They are very well behaved teenagers, she thinks. Maria takes that back, though, when she finds Darcy under the table with the beer and the finger food later that night, wrapped too tightly for Maria's comfort around a boy who seems to be trying to suck her face of like a leech. She's tempted to rip the boy away from her Darcy then and there, but instead she tries to calm herself. She does what Coulson constantly tells her to do when she's furious with one of the Agents. The counting thing. Reminding herself that Darcy is very capable – more than capable – of getting rid of people she doesn't want around. She also inwardly thanks Aminah for having secretly taught Darcy the ten easiest ways to hurt someone without getting blood all over you. Still. Before she turns and leaves, she kicks the table a bit, to at least startle the couple out of the face sucking. Tomorrow, she promises herself, she'll find out just who the boy thinks he is.

* * *

 

_2266, San Francisco_

_Spock chose to retire from Star Fleet in order to return to Vulcan out of personal reasons, before Admiral Fury could approach him about S.H.I.E.L.D. However, something else soon has S.H.I.E.L.D. on edge again: A Romulan ship destroyed seven Federation Outpost Stations. The attack came out of no-where, as the Romulan have stayed in reclusion for several decades. Star Fleet holds a conference with intergalactic allies to evaluate what will go down in History as the "Neutral Zone Incursion". This greatly overshadows the promotion of James T. Kirk to Admiral and Chief of Starfleet Operations – as recommended by Nick Fury himself._

* * *

 

2266, San Francisco

For her sixteenth birthday, Darcy is heavily in love, swooning over a guy named Neil, with an old-fashioned motorbike, a leather jacket and a guitar. Maria throws her hands over her head over these follies, because she really does see her father in Darcy now – he fell in love with Deborah during her wild teenage years as well, when Deborah had been in her leather-jacket-and-guitar-phase. She just hopes that Darcy won't turn into a teenage copy of her mother. By the time Maria had entered Star Fleet Deborah had been out of that phase again, but she's seen footage, kudos to Phil. Deborah had been the embodiment of Still-waters-run-deep at the time. And she really wishes she could talk to Peggy Carter now, Deborah's mother, who had handled her teenage daughter so well. Phil seems amused, though, when Maria tells him and Ben about this 'Neil-guy' and Darcy's phase during Phil's first secret visit to his former foster parents. And he enjoys it all too much to remind her of those photographs and videos he saw, of that girl who was the lead singer of her own band called "HIMYM". Ben almost snorts out his coffee, when Phil tells him that no-one in the band even knew what that meant, they just thought it sounded cool. And Phil enjoys it all too much to tell Ben how in love with a no-good-leather-jacket-guy that lead singer in her weird sparkly mini-skirt had been herself. Maria huffs, and curses Carol for ever having brought that footage to college for Phil, so many years back. But he is right, of course. If Neil is Darcy's "Robin Sparkles" then it's really not the worst she could do.

* * *

 

_2267_

_The discussions and the tension with the Klingon Empire come to a close, finally, when the_ Treaty of Organia _is signed. The ambassador for earth, Nyota Uhura, earns much applause and respect for how she handled the volatile Klingon temper. However, within a few months she chooses to resign from her post and instead wants to stay on earth and takes over the leadership of an important branch of Star Fleet Education. However, her work paved the way for further peace. Within the same year the Romulan Star Empire, the United Federation of Planets and the Klingon Empire sign another peace treaty and establish Nimbus III as the Planet of Galactic Peace._

* * *

 

2267, Caldos Colony

During February Darcy's class is send out to gather 'practical experiences'. For a while now, Darcy has been wondering about what job she could do, and she thinks that maybe she wants to be like her mother. Become a doctor, safe life, all that jazz. So Darcy has been signed up with three other seventeen year olds to assist the medical team under Doctor Anne Vader, of the new founded 'Caldos Colony' in the Sol System. It is Darcy's first time leaving earth and it is, all in all, very fascinating. She tries to imagine how it might have been for her father and her mother, who had lived on a star ship for ten years, but it's a bit hard. For her, this wood be much to crowded to bear with over such a long time. She is really happy when she can get out of the starship and unto the planet. Colony life is hard, though. Everything is a bit primitive and it reminds her of Scotland – though Scotland back in time four or five centuries. She feels like she's in one of her history lessons, or something. She can't really imagine why people would be willing to settle here permanently at all, and abandon the luxury they had on earth. But Doctor Vader is a pretty cool person. Darcy learns a lot from her. The most important thing she learns, though, is that she's just not her mother. She's just not cut out to cut up people. So, for all the cool things she learns and sees and does – she's just happy when she is on her way back to earth three months later.

* * *

 

_2268, Afghanistan_

_Anthony Stark gets kidnapped by a Terrorist organisation, who try to make him build their own Warp-core. Instead, Anthony Stark builds himself an Armour and rescues himself. Within the following days Stark reveals himself to be 'Iron Man', a 'superhero'. S.H.I.E.L.D. decides that maybe this was what they were waiting for and that Anthony Stark might be trusted to work with them. Admiral Fury seeks the man out, and decides to talk with him about his father's legacy. It's a delicate step in the history of S.H.I.E.L.D., because it's the first time they reveal themselves to someone who isn't involved in Star Fleet._ _And not everyone is happy about it, either._

* * *

 

2268, San Francisco

By the age of eighteen Darcy takes on a part-time job to finance herself a motor-bike. She's working for a team of Engineers who had just come back to earth from a Place called 'Jupiter Station'. They were mainly looking for someone willing to bring the coffee and maybe do some small tasks, and Darcy was willing and able. The work was pretty cool. They were working on something called a 'Holographic Environment Simulator', a virtual reality made pretty much real. Apparently, that was something that some aliens called Xyrillians had. She didn't get everything they told her, but that didn't matter. She just really liked to listen to that one Engineer, Francis Tyderman. He was a very good looking lad of twenty-five. A bit nerdy with his big, black glasses and his dreamy blue eyes who only seemed to shine when he was talking about 'SCIENCE!' in all capital letters with an exclamation mark at the end. She thought it endearing, though, to see him so passionate about what he did. And she was so over guys like Neil, who were to cool to care for anything anyway. Neil didn't deserve her. So it was absolutely okay for her to try and make Francis be maybe a bit as passionate about her as he was about computers, right? Right.

* * *

 

_2269, New York_

_Anthony Stark promotes Virgina Potts to CEO of Stark Industries and appoints S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Natasha Romanoff, currently Natalie Rushman, to his Personal Assistant._

* * *

 

_2269, Monaco_

_Anthony Stark gets attacked by Ivan Vanko. In the process, Natasha get's clearance to reveal herself if necessary and to make sure that Stark survives. It is Phil who insist to further consider Stark for the Avengers-Initiative, should they be able to indeed find 'Captain America'. Fury is sceptical, but because Phil insist and the man has been itching to get out again, he assigns Phil as the liaison for the Initiative and for Stark for the time being._

* * *

 

_2269, Arctic_

_Dr. Erskine's last retrieved coordinates seem to have been right. Howard Stark had hid the cyrostasis cell of 'Captain America' in the wrack of a ship in the Arctic. The mission to retrieve the cell from the ocean-floor is successful._

* * *

 

_2269, San Francisco_

_During the revived 'Stark Expo' Ivan Vanko re-appears and starts a second attempt at killing Stark, which fails. Natasha Romanoff gets called back and opposes Phil in his recommendation. Phil isn't happy but values Natasha enough to accept. Admiral Fury decides that they still should keep and eye on Stark and keep him close to S.H.I.E.L.D._

* * *

 

_2269, New York_

_When he opens his eyes the first time everything around him is blue, and there is light._

_And it's cold. Really cold._

_The first sound he hears is that of a familiar song, and he remembers._

_He remembers the war, the blood, the death._

_He remembers the promise of a dance, red lips, and the dropping of her voice as the computer shut down._

_His heart sinks a little as he realizes what it means that he's awake. That he's_ alive.

_Not again._

_He wishes to go back to sleep instantly._

* * *

 

**2269, in the middle of Nowhere**

Her nineteenth birthday is the first one Darcy ever celebrates alone. She's sitting in a shabby motel with a cupcake and a pretty sad candle in front of her, hugging an old, worn teddy to her chest. And she's not feeling like a birthday girl at all. She told Maria she'd be celebrating this one with friends from school, but truth is that most girls she was friends with took off after graduation, to celebrate the freedom they have now, while waiting for their applications for various universities or academies or job offers to be processed.

Darcy had not planned on celebrating with any of them – she had actually thought she'd be celebrating with Maria. She had even told Francis that she couldn't celebrate this with him, though her boss-gone-boyfriend had been a bit unhappy. She had just assumed, however, that she'd spend it with Maria, as she always did. But then Maria called, this morning, saying that there's a bit of a crisis in New York, apparently, and that she's needed there. She was very close-mouthed about it, but Darcy had see the dark circles under her eyes, and she had see that Maria had her hair pinned up in the up-do she only does when she's desperate to keep herself together.

And Darcy can't really bear to add to the weight of Maria's shoulders. She doesn't want to be a burden. So she had made up the party with her friends in a heartbeat.

Not wanting to suddenly pop up at Ben and Jodies she had just thrown a couple of things in a bag and had taken the Bike she had bought herself as a present out, just driving aimlessly down a highway.

And now she sat here, in this shabby motel. It had felt like freedom and adventure at first. But now, as midnight and her birthday approached, she started to feel a bit… well. Unsettled. Gloomy? Unsure of what she wanted to do with herself. Not only tonight, but in the future. She had sent out thirty applications to varying things. But she still just wasn't sure about where her future was. She felt… well. Rooteless. Like she just wasn't sure who she really was.

And maybe a bit lonely, too. She had never had been one to make friends easily, or to gather a crowd of people about her. And probably because she's lost so many people she kind of clings to the ones she has in her life. Like Maria, Aminah, Ben and Jodie. And, well. Like she clings to that Teddy, too. A Teddy with memories of her childhood, of her secret friend, of her mother, of Phil. Of the father she never really knew. And then she puts the Teddy away and gets up with the cupcake in her hand. Now is not the time to mope. That's not who she is. She puts the cupcake away and her leatherjacket back on. She grabs her bag and pauses in front of the table, where she bows over. She closes her eyes and blows out the candle, and she makes a wish. And then she turns and leafs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN
> 
> * The mentioned 'Caldos Colony' is indeed canonically founded some years before 2270. It is the place where Beverly Crusher, Doctor on the Enterprise under Captain Picard, will spend her childhood and teenage years with her grandmother, Felisa Howard. On the graveyard of that Planet there's also the grave of a person called 'Vader', so I borrowed that name. 
> 
> * Robin Sparkles is, of course, a reference to How I Met Your Mother. As is the band name. I just can't help it sometimes. Because Teenagers will be Teenagers, and even in the future, they will make poor life choices to be embarrassed about when they're older ;)
> 
> * In the 24th Century there will be a place at the Jupiter station called "Jupiter Station Holoprogramming Center". Darcy is kind of witnessing the Baby-Steps of the team, so to speak. (Though Francis is really just invented. I couldn't find a person that would make sense to be there for the alternative timeline.)The JSHC will be the place where 'The Doctor'/EMH will be developed, one of my favourite characters from the Voyager. I just couldn't resist.
> 
> * The Enterprise NX-01, under command of Captain Archer, encountered the Xyrillians in 2151, and they had Holodecks. It took Star Fleet about two centuries to recreate something similar, and by 2360 Holodecks were standard issues on Star Ships. But already in the 23rd century so called 'Recreation rooms' used holographic technologies in closed of rooms. I'm not yet sure if that is a continuity error or if that technique was just so bad that it took them another century to fully develop it. Take that as you like. I'm just going with them working on it right now.
> 
> * Darcy's age is a bit of an issue. I'm going with "she's twenty in Thor", so I tried to blend in an approximation of the MCU-timeline a bit that would make sense. So. Iron Man and Iron Man 2 happened before Thor. And I think about 8-12 months after Thor we have The Avengers? Is that right? 
> 
> * I never found a clear age as to when people enrol in the Academy, but it has to be somewhere between twenty and twenty-five when Kirk and Spock are there. Spock was twenty-five when he enrolled and Kirk was clearly younger. I settled for twenty. However, you have to pass extensive exams and a summer camp before you can enter, and it seems that most people don't make it on their first try. And I also think that during a time of tension and war Star Fleet might want more recruits, so they'd actually maybe accept people who get moved from the Star-Fleet-funded Boardingschools because of talent etc. at age sixteen onwards. In my mind, Phil, David and Deborah entered Star Fleet Academy at seventeen already and left it early, aged twenty-three, being directly recruited by Nick Fury unto his ship, the USS Vanguard. I like to think of them as some kind of a trio. They served for ten years together, in which Debby and David got married and Debby got pregnant. Which means that Darcy wasn't born on earth and she spent or first three or four years on a space ship, until the Vanguard returned to earth permanently. And then Deborah worked in the hospital for four years.
> 
>  
> 
> * Most of the cursive parts are stuff on canon events. The tweaked Time-Line-thing they made up 2009 kind of changes a lot, but I tried to adapt things. You will all also recognize a heap of MCU blended in. What I made up is that Nyota Uhura helped in that Klingon Treaty and took over a branch of Star Fleet Education. While we know what happened to Spock and Kirk after that five-year-mission they never bothered to mention or explain what happened to Uhura. So I just made something up. That kickass-woman had better have gotten a high position as well.
> 
> * Just for fun, and for those who might care. I do have a head-cast for my made up characters. The most important one: I'm picturing Gina Torres as Aminah Nejem, and nobody can convince me otherwise. For Ben Cooper I've had Morgan Freeman in my mind. For Jodie it was Kim Basinger, mostly because I once saw an excerpt of "Dog and Cat" and knew she could pull of a iron-grip-like S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. I like to image that she and Peggy Carter got along fabulously. My head cast for Deborah would be either Lauren Graham or Winona Ryder. I shamelessly leaning towards Lauren Graham, because I have a soft sport for her eversince 'Gilmore Girls'. I don't have a perfect head-cast for David because I like to think of him as a male 'Darcy'. But I'd want Nathan Fillion just for the sake of having Nathan Fillion. No, just kidding. Half kidding. He could pull of the quirky but also deep character well, aaaaand he would look good with Lauren Graham. 
> 
> Aaaand, now I'll shut up again.


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me warn you first: My new favourite English word is creeper dolly. No, sorry, that's not what I wanted to warn you about. What I was going to say was that a lot of Thor!plotlines are about to happen. And I didn't have the patience to re-write them all. This thing is already 26 word pages long and I had to cut a hell of a lot scenes. Six pages, to be precise. I will probably throw them bit by bit as outtakes on tumblr, but for now, they just couldn't be kept in this chapter. I'll just assume that you'll have seen Thor if you're reading a fic about Darcy Lewis, okay?  
> Also random warnings for: Darcy/Swivel chair. Lots of girl-bonding. The left-boob-grab-easter-egg. Me messing with Klingon language and culture. Implied/Background/maybe one-sided Darcy/Clint-attraction.  
> Another warning: 18.8k words ahead of you. Bring time and popcorn and tea.
> 
> Also: The AN is too long for the box. So it's just coppied to the end of the chapter. That should give you a fair idea of what lays ahead of you.

 

* * *

 

_[Ne'er-do-well in the dark corner, raising anxiety_

_Says the safest place in the world is insanity_

_Strangers come from the four corners, with passion and discontent_

_They sing in harmony of the Reckoning Lament]_

_Reckoning Lament – Lincoln Durham_

* * *

 

_2270, San Francisco_

Darcy is barely twenty when she sits in the office of the Head Director of Starfleet Academy, who glances over her application again. And she feels very much like ten in front of the big desk and all. Though she supposes it's stupid to feel this way. She has no reason to be intimidated, has she? By a desk of all things. She's human, and she's a damn great human at that. That desk has nothing on her.

She has passed the first three rounds of tests and talks, and now she has six month until April, when the Summer Camp will start. It rocks, it seriously does. She's going to bask in her personal glory of having made it this far, and she'll relish in those six month before she sets of to become an explorer of the galaxies and all that. Of course, it's not entirely up to her how she'll bask. How she'll fill that time. This is why she's here, after all.

The director now looks up, crossing her hands over Darcy's file, which she had flipped back to the first page. Darcy smiles at her a bit awkwardly. If she made a fool out of herself now, would that woman be able to kick her out of the Academy before she even starts? Because if that is an option, Darcy feels like she should maybe just not open her moth at all. And this woman? Her eyebrows alone say ' _no bullshit allowed on premises'_. And Darcy is pretty sure that all she's been doing in previous 'talks' was bullshitting her way through them.

"So, Miss Lewis. Let's go over your data briefly, shall we." She didn't exactly wait for a reply and instead turned her dark eyes towards the sheet in front of her again. "Darcy Margaret Lewis, Born 2250, London. Daughter to Deborah Carter-Hampton and David Lewis. Orphaned. Living in custody of Benjamin and Jodie Cooper, San Francisco. Is that right so far?"

Darcy nodded. "You got it. Er.. Ma'am." The woman raised one of her elegant eyebrows as she glanced at Darcy briefly.

"Yes. Good. This was your first application, from what I see. You made 91% in your tests and 87% in all other evaluations." Did Darcy just imagine it or was there a hint of approval in that woman's voice? She could only hope so. Maria had told her that she thinks highly of the headmistress.

For now, the woman closes Darcy's file again, and Darcy glances at the perfectly manicured fingers. Everything about the woman looks perfectly trimmed, from her nails, to her lashes, to the tight ponytail. Darcy isn't sure if she is impressed or intimidated. It's always so confusing to be awed by the perfection of something. You kind of want to appreciate it, but you also want to hate it for being so perfect. And Darcy is pretty sure that she might hate the perfectness of those nails. If she even so much as thought of applying nail polish to her nails… ah, hell. Focus, Darcy, Focus. Look intelligent. Perfection or not, she didn't want to make a fool out of herself in front of that woman. After all, everyone had at least heard the name Nyota Uhura before, one of the leading crewmembers of the famed Enterprise.

As if she is aware of the thoughts going on in Darcy's head – or maybe she can read them in her face – Headmisstress Uhura smiles briefly. "I take it you received the flyer and information pamphlets we send you for your orientation." Darcy can barely keep from pulling a grimace at that. Sure she had gotten them. But they had not been what she had hoped for.

They had advertised three different facilities of Star Fleet one could take on either an internship with or add additional skills to one's curriculum vitae. Like, for example, language course in Romanian, Russian and Romlastha, the Romulan language or various computer linguistics; or crash courses on Vulcan culture; or a crash courses on cartography and geomedia technology. Things like that. It is expected that one tries to settle for a certain career aspect even before entering the Academy.

But Darcy is not going to lie. She just cannot settle yet. How could she? It is all darn interesting, and she has never really done any serious Star Fleet work. Her only trip on a spaceship has been very brief, and only as a passenger. How would she know what working for Star Fleet in space or here, on the ground, would be like? What part about it would be hers?

She's been trying to find that out about herself for a while now. She has dabbled in computer science, in mechanics. She has had her focus on intergalactic politics in the last two years of school. And yet, still, she has not seen everything there was by far. And… call her stupid, and greedy, but she just doesn't want a door to close on her. She wants to find something she could stick with. She wants to find what is really her, and become as happy with it as her mother had been with being a Doctor. Or to be even half as happy as Maria is with her job – err, whatever exactly it was that a First Officer did. Darcy would never claim to know. Sometimes she thinks Maria is probably running the whole place, or something, because that woman doesn't ever seem to be not stressed. … So, on a second thought, maybe she doesn't really want a job like Maria's.

Darcy brushes a lock of her brown hair out of her face, unconsciously edging forward to the edge of her seat. "… yeah, I've read them. You have… nice things to offer but… can I maybe suggest something else?" Darcy feels her hand being a bit sweaty. Which is so not her. But the stare she earns herself with her fidgeting and her words would probably even make that Fury-guy’s palms sweaty. Still, the woman makes an inviting gesture with her hand. So Darcy tries to untangle her tongue and her thoughts.

"I appreciate what the Academy has to offer. I mean. There's an internship on _Vulcan_ , which is seriously cool. But… I don't think that there's something that… covers everything for me. I want to do an Internship, yeah, I want to work. I want to be an Assistant in a lab and I want to be in the field. And I also want to … like… learn something on a new culture and a new language. Because I never had the chance to do any of that so far. And that's what this is all about, right? Seeing every aspect, finding what I am truly the best at?"

Darcy isn't sure if her words have offended the woman, because her eyebrow game gets even more intense. So she hastily continues. "I don't want to cause a fuss or make this any more difficult. I already looked into it, and I found an Astrophysicist who would take me on as an unpaid Intern and she would be okay with teaching me on various cultures. There's someone who would teach me Klingon as well. I know I can't get credit points for unofficial teachings, and I know that Klingon is no part of the official language set we can get accredited yet. I just… thought it a good opportunity to branch out. Do some real work. If that's okay. Ma'am."

Mentally, Darcy curses herself. She's had everything she wants to say carefully planned, really. Words are her thing. She is good with words. But when it comes down to it she has just started to ramble and panic beneath that woman's stare. She's probably screwed this up for herself already.

And then Director Uhura all but smirks. She leans back in her chair, tilting her head sideways a bit, as if she were evaluating the twenty year old girl sitting before her anew. "Unpaid Intership. Unofficial learnings and learning a language that won't earn you any credit or respect, nor will it be of much use for you in a while. You want to do this the hard way, huh?" Darcy bites her lip for a second, but it is true, isn't it? She shrugs helplessly and nods at the same time.

The Director opens Darcy's file again, glancing at something, before she starts to drum a pattern with her fingertips on the desk before her. "I like your way of thinking, Miss Lewis. Finding your own path and being willing to take on the hardships it might bring. And this surely will bring you some hardships." Director Uhura never once loses eye contact with Darcy, and at some point Darcy doesn’t dare to look away herself anymore. "You'll alienate yourself from your peers this way. And some of the Professor's won't take it too kindly if you turn down the system they designed. And you will be behind the others in your year on credit points. You'll have to double your effort during your internship and you'll have to work twice as hard during Summer Camp and the Academy years again." She pauses, and then she smiles. "But something tells me you considered that already before coming here. So if this is what you want, I won't be in your way."

Darcy can't help but smile right back at the woman, something making a happy leap in her stomach. "Thank you, Ma'am."

The woman waves it off, and instead gets up. "Don't mention it. As I said, I like that way of thinking. In fact, you remind me of someone. A certain guy who also always took the hardest way possible, always willing to beat his own path despite what others thought. And by now he's Admiral." She seemed to remember something that moment, and almost chuckled. "Though I'd really not advise you to take Kirk as a role model."

Darcy gets up herself and takes the offered hand, shaking it. Her big moth is getting the better of her, and she shrugs a bit, as she lets go of Director Uhura's hand. "I can't promise you that, Ma'am. I've heard stories that he made a Vulcan laugh once. Sounds impressive to me."

Uhura grins, slightly. Darcy would swear that she's seeing a hint of mischief there. "Well, I made a Vulcan do _much_ more than that. I just don't brag as much about it as Admiral Kirk does. I expect to hear impressive stories about you in the future as well, Miss Lewis."

Darcy nods, and her cheeks are hurting from the broadness of her smile. "Is that an order, Ma'am?"

Director Uhura laughs outright now. "It is. But now, off with you." Darcy turns, and she would have skipped out of the room, if her stomach wouldn't be doing the skipping for her already. _Hell yeah_. One thing she can say for sure now. Director Uhura _rocks._

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexico, Puente Antiguo_

Darcy's on the road for a while already when the sun begins to rise. Her arms are starting to hurt and the sunrise makes her feel a bit sentimental, and she considers taking a break. She left home a couple of hours ago and now might be a good time for breakfast? But if she takes a break now to watch the sunrise, she might get all mushy and feely. Watching sunrises together has turned into her and Ben's thing overt he years. And sentimentally is kind of what she's trying to avoid here.

She isn't good with long goodbyes, so she said them the night before, when Jodie and Ben went to sleep. She didn't want them to stand at the door and wave her off. She had dropped by at Maria's place the night before as well, but Maria had apparently been working longer, so she'd only been able to write her a quick note and tell Aminah to pass on a hug. Luckily for her Aminah wasn't one for sentimentality either, so there had been no tears or pleas to call as soon as she arrives with the scientist safely. It had all been very brief, and by midnight Darcy had casually grabbed her bags, her leather jacket and her bike and she's been off.

It's not like she'd be on a different planet or anything. Though she might as well be, as she strictly forbade anyone to call or visit her. Hell, she's not even told them that she would be working with Dr. Foster in New Mexico instead of in the lab that the scientist officially had at Culver University. What was the purpose to go to a forlorn place like that anyway, if not to finally start cutting the cord between herself and her patchwork-family a bit?

Maybe it had been a bit extreme, but Darcy knows herself oh so well. She just likes to hold unto the things and people dear to her. She doesn't like the feeling of something slipping away from her, so she grabs for things very hard sometimes. She has had a bit of psychology at school, so she isn't dumb or blind. Of course it has everything to do with the fact that she lost so many people already. But she refuses to let herself be ruled by her fears, or her past. She'd be forever clinging to them, unable to go and find out what it is that she wants to be or do, if she doesn't make a clean cut. At least for a while. So this time, she can't afford to look back.

So she opts against breakfast and instead continues driving. She gets her breakfast-sunrise-double three days later, when she finally reaches this forlorn place called Puente Antiguo. It's kind of a funny town, she thinks, as she rolls through it on her bike and parks in front of the first breakfast place to cross her way.

The sun is barely up, and she can see that the guy is just opening his diner. No one's inside save for her. And he seems surprised and a bit grumpy, when she walks in, an old-fashioned chiming as she pushes open the door and slips in. The way he eyes her helmet, her messy hair, her black leather pants, boots and jackets and her fingerless gloves is thrillingly small-town!cliché, she can't help but think. Everything, from his flannel to his backwards-worn-cap seems very smalltown-y.

She flashes him her most charming grin as she sits down at the counter, putting her bags down at her side. He throws the towel he had used to whip the tables just a moment ago over his shoulder and walks over to her. "What can I bring you." He doesn't sound like he's really asking. Or like he would like to not be asking that question right now.

That man has no idea how often he'll have to ask her that. Or, she muses, how long it'll take him to learn not to ask it anymore. Maybe this guy will become her local coffee-guru and he'll have her order down by memory in two or three weeks. That seems like something she'd like. Like something un-Frisco-y to happen. "The biggest cup of coffee on your menu and the sweetest thing for breakfast you have seems about right." He grunts something that sounds a lot like 'unhealthy junkfood kids these days', but walks away in the direction of the kitchen.

Darcy turns around, facing the window. Puente Antiguo. So that's it. She observes the very few people passing by as the sky bleeds its red colour and starts to blend into a blue with a touch of violet. They look very normal. Some seem tired, other seem like this is just their time of day. She's thrilled to see no-one in any kind of uniform, and almost no woman wearing high heels.

She inwardly prays that this Dr. Jane Foster won't be an ass and will be a bit like Dr. Anne Vader, the woman she did her first internship with. She really doesn't want to end up hating this. In fact, she might already like this place. Or is that just her hope for a comfortable bed speaking? She feels really tired. Maybe she shouldn't have stopped by in Vegas on her second day.

The sound of steps makes her turn around again, and she grins happily at the plate with pancakes and the really big mug of coffee the guy puts down in front of her. "Thanks… err.." she scans his flannel in vain for a name tag.

He seems torn between just not saying anything and growling, but then grumpily spits out his name. "… Luke."

"Like Skywalker?"

She was pretty sure his grumpyness had turned to murderous intend now. "… very original."

Darcy poured Syrup all over her pancakes, grinning happily. This was the life, people. "Thanks, I know. My name is Darcy. Darcy Lewis." She thrust out her hand towards him. He eyed it like she had cooties or something, but then he shook it anyway. Great babysteps towards a well-founded friendship. For a bit Darcy merely sat and ate in silence, but then she can't help herself and has to strike up a conversation. "So, my Jedi friend, how is this place? Any good?"

He sighs, and turns towards the dishwasher behind him. "Quiet and small place. I grew up here and I think it's okay. Don't know if you'd think it ' _any good'_ , kiddo." Darcy can't help but chuckle. Kiddo. That man was fifty, at best, but he sure spoke like he was eighty or something. Who even dried of dishes anymore? Most dishwashers did that by now. As he grabbed the next cup to dry he glances at her. "How long do you plan to stay?"

Ah well. At least he hasn't immediately told her that he hopes she's just passing through. "A while. Six months, if all works out. I'm Dr. Foster's new intern. You know her?"

Well, that sure made him pause. He fully turns towards her now, with a wet plate still in his hand. Maybe she should be offended by the way he eyes her, but it has a charm to be eyed so un-subtly. "The scientist. Sure do, she's a-okay. Pays her stuff." Err, well. That is good information. Though Darcy wonders what it says about the people of Puente Antiguo if someone paying his stuff is a characteristic worth noting.

Darcy decides not to read too much into it, for now. She gulps down her coffee hastily, glancing at the clock. "Great. Do you think she'll be up already?"

Luke has turned away from her again, continuing to take care of his dishes. "How would I know?"

Darcy chews on her last bits of pancake, already fishing her credit card from a pocket of her leather jacket. "There aren't too many places people could breakfast around here, I noted as much. So I thought maybe she's a regular, or something."

Without her having to ask for it Luke silently offers her a refill with the can raised. She shakes her head – for now – but she really can't help but grin. Yes, this friendship is going places. "She's isn't. I guess you can try her place, though. Much glass in the lab downstairs, you'll see if she's up."

A part of Darcy wonders if Luke Skywalker is just being helpful to get rid of her, but she won't complain. She jumps form her chair and thrusts out her card to him. "Awesome. Then I'll be off. Can you give me directions? She told me she'd pick me up somewhere when I call, but it's a bit too early for that, I think. She won't expect me till tomorrow anyway."

It turns out that Dr. Foster's lab is pretty close to the diner and the pet-shop. And Darcy can't deny that she's impressed with the place. It's big, with much glass, and many interesting machines in there. She's also very impressed with the two cars outside. One of them is an old, hideously green tuck, and she might be in love with it.

And maybe she's even more impressed with the woman sitting on the roof of the lab, her feet dangling from the edge, a cup of coffee in her hands. Darcy stares up at the woman in jeans, boots and a red-and-blue flannel shirt, and she can't help but grin. So flannel is the way to go in this town? The woman stares down at her too, raising one eyebrow at her and brushing back a few strands of long, brown hair. "Err… good morning?" She offers, with a calm voice. She's really young. How can one be so young and have three doctorates? She looks chill, though.

Darcy waves a bit, pulling down her helmet and taking it under her arm. "Hi! Dr. Foster, right? I'm Darcy Lewis. Your new intern."

Dr Foster blinks, and leans forward a bit. "Miss Lewis…? I didn't… what day is it?" Cute, she's genuinely confused.

"Thursday. I'm a bit early. Surprise?"

She seems to frown, at first, but the then Science-lady gets up from her place, and she smiles a bit tiredly. "Oh, that's good. Good that you made it here safely, too. And that I didn't confuse the days again." She shakes her head slightly, as if she didn't mean to say that last part. "Sorry, can you wait there for a second? I'll come down and let you in." And with that, she walks away from the edge, not giving Darcy time to reply.

The introduction is kind of short, at first, and maybe just a small bit awkward after the handshake. It's a lot of eyeing each other up, trying to guess how the other woman might be. It get's easier after Darcy asks Dr. Foster to drop the 'Miss Lewis' and Dr. Foster – seemingly relieved – asks her to call her 'Jane', too. She then shows Darcy to her room and offers Darcy a bit of time to settle in first, and to shower, and put on some fresh clothes before she shows her what is required of her.

Darcy does feel like a whole new human being when she's in a pair of jeans and a plain blue shirt again. She's considered putting on her fanshirt of the recently rebooted Star Wars Series, but she isn't sure just how casual it will be yet. Jane shows her around in the lab afterwards and introduces her to her computer system. It's all a bit old-ish, and Jane confesses that she thinks she can think better when she writes things down by hand or has them before her more physically, on a paper. She seems a bit embarrassed by it at first, but Darcy thinks its kind of ying-yang-style for someone who is working in science and futuristic stuff to be so old-fashioned about some things. Old-fashioned and flannel really seem to be the way around here. Or maybe she's just spoiled from having grown up on thoroughly modern places like London and Frisco.

And then Jane takes her on a small tour through her small town. There isn't much to see, obviously, but Darcy sees Jane fully relaxed. She's even laughing when she shows Darcy the pet shop and Darcy turns into her six-year old self again, begging her boss (whom she knows a total of one hour by then) if they can maybe adopt a cat.

On their way back to Jane's lab Jane takes a bit of a detour to the 'outskirts' of the town, and introduces her to former Star Fleet Lieutenant Rick McCaffrey. Darcy doesn't immediately get why Jane introduces her to the tall, dark and well-built man. Her boyfriend? But then a little toddler girl waddles into the room. Her dark eyes, her dark hair and her dark skin seem to be just like her father, if it weren't for the bulges on her forehead.

Darcy tries not to stare, and instead smiles at the girl and squads down to introduce herself to the kid properly. This seems to loosen the Lieutenant's protective stance, and he lets her hold the cute little potato, whom he introduces as T'vazia. And then he invites her and Dr. Foster in, makes them tea and begins to tell them his story.

She doesn't get _all the details_ from him, of course, and the things he tells her confuse her a great deal, but he tells her enough. Starting with that he was serving under an ambassador who had tried to gain peace with the Klingons for years. He had had a two-year affair with one klingon woman called _T'vana, Daughter of Tumek, of the house of K'Tal_. Darcy had almost chuckled at the name, but McCaffrey had made such a serious face when he said it all that she had forced it down.

At one point T'vana got pregnant. Quite obviously, Darcy thinks, as she tickles the little girl in her arm a bit, to keep her occupied. The Lieutenant doesn't really react to her raised eyebrow, he just continues to explain that they had not really had time to settle how to deal with it, as shortly after giving birth to her daughter T'vana got the news that her sister – Arizhel, daughter of Tumek, of the hous K'Tal, bound to Gorkon, son of Toq, of the House of Makok – died giving birth to her son Kintazh. And for whatever reason that made T'vana leave.

McCaffrey says it all very much as a matter of fact-ly, so Darcy is sure that it should be obvious to her. But, hey, they don't learn much about klingon customs in school. She has no idea why the death of her sister and her leaving behind kids justifies T'vana's leaving of her own kid. Darcy has no idea. Maybe it was just a good moment. Rick is awfully calm about it all, so it seems like he wasn't overly heartbroken. Darcy can't say she gets it, but what she gets is that Rick decided to be a single daddy and came back to earth and opened his mechanic shop with his cute daughter.

The people here seem to be used to 'weirdness', as he puts it, so for now T'vazia's bulges haven't gotten side-eyed too much. So he's good, he's happy here. And he is the more than happy to teach her on all things klingon culture and the klingon language, so as to put his own years of acquiring this knowledge to good use, as long as she is willing to babysit T'vazia every once in a while. Not a problem for Darcy.

She leaves McCaffrey and his kid with a happy grin on her face. Even more so, when she notes that Jane has an oddly pleased expression on her face. She suspects that she did something right there. Back on their way to their lab, Jane tells her of how she met Rick herself, when she moved her lab here six months ago. Rick had been there to help her setting everything up, and he had been very supportive of her research even when her fellow astrophysicists had had nothing but snorts for her thesis.

At which she side-eyes Darcy, for a second, and then, after a pause, hesitantly begins to speak. "I know that you're not specialised in this, and that you didn't really apply for the position out of a professional interest in my research. That's fine by me, really. I just… would like to ask you to try and take this serious, as ridiculous as it may sometimes seem. That's really all I ask for."

Jane stares forward, and her expression is almost the same level of defensive as Rick's was over T'vazia. And Darcy get's it. She gets this very important first thing about Jane Foster, that makes her want to add Jane to her collection of people: This is her baby, this research, this science and she has been ridiculed, attacked and put down for it. And it makes Darcy the same amount of angry, that people seemingly always felt the need to judge so hard that it hurt, as it makes her want to fix this. To help Jane. Darcy smiles, grimly, and looks forward, too. "Sure." She says. And can't help but add "Whatever you say, boss-lady, I'll do it. I'm with you on this."

* * *

 

_2270, Unknown Location, America_

There is a glistening, blinding light when he wakes up. His head feels heavy from the medication, and he feels disorientated. But he is used to this. This is not the first time he wakes up after a long… sleep.

He had been aching all over when they had woken him the first time to this year. 2270. It seems so surreal. A sardonic part of him adds that it was never meant to be this way, and that's why it's _supposed to hurt_. He should be thankful.

The soft touch of a hand placed on his chest makes him look to his left. Abraham Erskine looks old. Not nearly as old as he should be, judging by the year they were in now, but so much older than he had been the last time he saw him. He had been out there ever since the last time he put Steve to sleep. It's weird to remind himself of it. But the smile is still the same, soft and kind. Just more wrinkled. "Good morning, Steve. How are you feeling?"

He helps Steve sit up, though Steve is reluctant to really put any weight on his old friend. He looks so frail now. For a second Steve is distracted by how white and long Dr. Erskine's eyebrows are now, before he swings his legs over to his left side, and slowly gets up from the hospital bed. His legs ache, and he feels odd. The fact that he was even able to stand up at all, though, was an improvement. "I feel fine. How long did I sleep this time?"

A side-effect of the cryostasis. He would never get used to it. But with every time that he woke up, after being brought back from the cell, he would feel less of the disorientation and the pain. And his body slowly regained its strength, just bouncing back from the long disuse like a rubber band. _Unnaturally_ , the sardonic voice whispers. Dr. Erskine glances at the clock, as if he needed to make sure. As if he hadn't been standing wake around him, like he always did. An old, painful tradition for both of them. "Just two days. The intervals between your wake periods are getting shorter again. You'll be in your old form in no time, my friend."

Steve lets his gaze thrift through the room for a moment. He notes, with a bit of disbelieve, that the hospital room has been re-decorated yet again. Or, well. It is a different room, and they had yet again bothered to come up with a 'personal' decoration for him.

The first time he woken up they had tried to create the illusion that it was just a few weeks after 'The Great Nuclear Winter'. The second time he woke up in a room of total darkness, a week after. The third time, he woke up in a room where one wall had been decorated with the American Flag, the emblem of Star Fleet, and pictures of himself, from his days as 'Captain America'. It had been a thoroughly alienating thing.

This time they have seemingly settled for something a bit more subtle. He only notes it now, but there is one wall with framed pictures of his former crew, on the USS Freedom, and a small model of it on a shelf. He walks over to them, slowly. He pauses to glance at the group. The Howling Commandos, they had been called. Good men. After he woke up he had asked if it had worked. If their shuttle had been able to escape. He had felt so much relief when Dr. Erskine had shown him the pictures of their happy family, their life after his "death". He had been able to save them. Well. All except one. But that had been many years before this last battle.

He sighs, turning away from the pictures, trying desperately to shove the past away for the moment. He doesn't want to remember. There is only pain lying behind him. Pain and bittersweet regret. His failures would always outweigh his success.

So he latches himself unto the present. The present he's been brought back to, like he’s never been meant to be. Only if the world was at war, had been the promise. Only if there is no other option. But so far, no one has told him why he is here now.

He looks at the small, aged man. He had wanted to life and die, peacefully, for once. They had said their goodbyes so many years back. Decades. Abraham Erskine is not supposed to be here now. They both had picked Howard Stark as the man they wanted to trust to wake him, or to pass on the knowledge of how and where to wake him if necessary for the future. And yet, Steve has not been able to ask that question. But it is time, isn't it?

If anything, Abraham wouldn't have woken him – a constant reminder of his vain, younger years when he had believed that he could change the fate of the human kind and had helped create a species that would bring so much suffering and bloodshed to the planet – without seeing the dire need. Something is off.

And Steve dreads to ask for it. A part of him really doesn't want to know, doesn't want to be needed. A part of him wants to go back to sleep. Or, better yet, die. But that is not an option, right? Because he doesn't fully belong to himself. He remembers it, when he looks into Dr. Erskine's sad, old eyes behind his old-fashioned glasses. He remembers the pleading look in those eyes when his face had still been free of wrinkles. He remembers the desperate, broken tone of voice. He is Abraham's only chance of redemption. Of saving this world.

Steve sighs. And he turns fully towards Abraham now, trying not to ball a fist. "What happened, Abraham?" He murmurs now, reluctantly. "Where is Howard?"

* * *

 

_2270, San Francisco_

Maria has her feet in Aminah's lap, staring at the picture of a serious looking woman just eight years younger than she is. Just thirty and three doctorates already. Dr. Foster seems to be an impressive person. Or that’s the picture that the files, newspaper-articles and excerpts from scientific publications, which Maria has spend the last hour reading, paint.

It's one of her rare evenings off, technically, but work just never leaves her. And it's not like she minds. She likes what she finds, mostly. The woman passed anything she ever did with flying colours, but it's obviously that she had been working hard for it. No rich family to support her, though maybe her father's name worked as a sort of stepping stone at the beginning.

Isaac Foster had been known for his research, though it had been in a slightly different field. Jane had begun to make a name for herself, too, until she had picked up on her latest topic. Spontaneous Einstein-Rosen-Bridges and the ability to create such. Many scientists were snorting at the idea.

Maria put her pad down, glancing at the screen Aminah was watching intently. Just some science-fiction show she was seeing at least for the thousand's time. She slightly probes Aminah's tight, to catch her attention, and then holds out the pad for her. "This Doctor Foster really is interesting. I think we should bring her to Admiral Fury’s attention and recruit her for S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm actually tempted to call him right now and ask for his permission to head out with a team to her lab at Culver."

Aminah's face betrays nothing as she takes the pad, but it also stays just as calm as she merely throws the pad at the armchair. Maria frowns. "Hey, you could have just told me if you didn't want to read it. I'm not done yet, you know."

Aminah raises one eyebrow and gives her the look. The look that says "you don't really think I'm buying that, do you." She has mastered it, actually. Maria has been standing up to many people in her life – including Director Fucking Fury – but no one's facial expression had ever been so to the point and able to kind of… ah, well, not scare her. But let's go with 'induce respect'.

Maria raises one of her eyebrows herself. Not willing to back down. She _really_ wasn't done with her research on Dr. Foster yet. "What? What did I do now?"

If Aminah notes the slight hint of exasperation in Maria's usually calm voice, she doesn't acknowledge it. She merely looks back at the screen, where the space cowboy just got dropped in the desert with no clothes on. "You are done. You are done being a worried mother hen for the evening, love." Maria frowns, but, apparently, Aminah is not finished. She holds out one finger. "And don't insult me in saying that you're not just doing this because you're worried for Darcy. We both know you are, and Admiral Fury will know, too, if you call him now. And he won't appreciate it half as much as I do. And don't fool yourself into thinking that Darcy will appreciate it. She didn't tell you where she was for a reason, and you're not respecting it."

Maria's mouth falls shut again. She really wants to disagree, but a part of her.. well… a part of her knows that Aminah is damn right. As she usually is. And Maria doesn't lie, especially not to herself, if she can help it. And it's not like she wants to be this person. This worried 'mother hen', as Aminah calls it. Maria sighs, and sinks a bit deeper into the cushion of their couch. She settles for not saying anything. Just huffing.

This, at least, has Aminah amused enough to look away from the screen again. She laughs, and it's a dark, warm laugh. She starts massaging Mariah's feet. "It's alright to be worried. You miss her, it's normal."

Maria tries a smile, but it ends up being a grimace. "Yeah, maybe. It's just silly." She pauses. Not sure if there's really any point in talking about it, but Aminah's soft kneading and the warmth and just the whole situation is kind of inviting. They don't get to have evenings off that much together. And, apparently, she needs to get it out of her system, before she does something stupid. As Aminah has correctly pointed out, Darcy wouldn't appreciate it if she made a fuzz.

She struggles for words. "I trust Darcy, I know she knows what she's doing and that she can take care of herself. But I feel like I need to make sure that she's okay. She is so much like Debby sometimes. And Debby never told anyone if things weren't going well for her either." She pauses. Tries to shrug, as if she could shrug it off, but it's suddenly all very wobbly. She can't even really look at Aminah, as she speaks, so she watches the screen without really seeing anything that's going on, as she continues. "And we know what happened when I wasn't there to check up on Debby. I know, not all my fault, but it's true, you know. I wasn't there to check in on Deborah, like I should have, as a good friend. And even when I knew that something was off, I never bothered to meddle, because it wasn't really me. I left it to Phil. But he's not here, now. He can't. And I don't want to… I don't want to make that mistake with Darcy, I guess."

There is a moment of silence between them. A moment, in which Aminah softly pushes Maria's feet of her lap and leans over Maria, one knee on the couch, the other leg on the ground. Maria turns her face fully towards her, as Aminah softly cups it with her palms. For a moment, Maria just wants nothing but to stare into those dark eyes. "You listen to me, and listen carefully, because I'm not going to say this again. Deborah's death was not your fault. And Darcy is not your redemption for your friend's death. Darcy loves you, and you love Darcy, and that is okay. But she will not die if you make mistakes."

Aminah, softly leans her forhead against, Maria's. There is a small, sad smile on her face. "If you are worried for her, talk to her. She will understand. And she won't mind nearly half as much as when you just try to be sneaky and make her life and her decisions your business. That is the most important thing you need to finally get into this thick skull of yours. Just because you work for a shadow organisation doesn't mean that you have to keep everything you want to do, or feel or think a secret, alright?"

This time, Maria manages a small smile herself. "Aye, Captain." She leans forward to kiss Aminah, softly, and can't help put to thank any god or higher being whatsoever for sending her this woman. She has no clue how she would have gotten through those past years without her.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexiko, Puente Antiguo_

It takes one month of working with her until Jane invites Darcy to her place of serenity – the rooftop. It's well past midnight, and Darcy is tired as hell, but she would never turn down this invitation, when Jane offers. They're both dressed in sweatpants and long shirts, at Jane's recommendations, because the wind picks up sometimes when it gets late. Darcy helps to carry up a second deck chair and Jane carries a heap of blankets, Darcy's Teddy and a thermos with hot cocoa. Not Darcy's preferred weapon of choice, but well enough. The nights in the desert can be pretty darn cold, she has learned as much so far. Jane lights a fire for them, which reminds Darcy of the few camping trips she had with Maria.

She smiles as she let's Jane hand her a cup of the steaming hot stuff, cuddled in a blanket, looking at the stars. "I get why you go up here so often. It's kind of romantic."

Jane to her right snorts, her fingers cupped tightly around her own cup. "What 'Romance'. A crazy science-lady in the middle of the dessert is not exactly a man-magnet." She says it with half a smile and only a hint of bitterness in her tone. Jane has mentioned the story of her Ex once, the Blake-guy. Some doctor, whom she knew from her days at Culver-University. He had not been a very supportive boy-friend, from what she gathered, and when Jane started her current research and people started frowning upon it he made himself scarce. There's still some of his stuff in the Lab, so it couldn't have been too long ago. Darcy has it firmly in her mind to get Jane to pack it up some time soon.

"Aww, don't say that. They have no idea what they're missing out on, boss-lady. You're smart, you're pretty and …" She holds up her cup of cocoa. "…you make a mean cocoa. Is that rum?"

Jane laughs a little taking a sip from her own cup. "Black Bacardi. My Grandma used to make this for Christmas, though she added a bit of cinnamon."

Darcy grinned. "See? And you have some of the genes of this cool Grandma. What more could a guy want."

Jane rolled her eyes a bit, and leaned back in her own chair. She wore the happiest of expressions on her face when she looked at stars like that. "Sure. What about your romance, by the way? You said you have a boyfriend back home?"

Darcy yawns a bit, as she leans back, too. Thanks to Jane she has learned a lot more about stars than she ever cared to know. She's pretty proud when she can make out the little bear and the big bear without effort. "Yeah, I have. Kind of. It's a bit complicated right now, with me being here and all. Francis Tyderman, he's and engineer. You'd like him, he's all about science as well. Hey, where is that dog-star-thing you were talking about?"

Jane raises one arm and leans over a bit. "There, that's the head. The bright one, see it?"

Darcy nods. "Oh, yeah. With… much imagination." She wonders what kind of dog it is. Hopefully not a Chihuahua. Maybe a Pug?

"Why is it complicated, though? Did you two have a row?" Jane doesn't usually just casually talk about private stuff. And normally, she doesn't ask or pry much for information about Darcy, either. But maybe tonight, here in this special place, things are different.

"Ah, well. He's a bit pissed, because I told him not to come and visit. He wasn't too happy with me going so far away, either. But it's good. Either he deals with it or he doesn't. We'll work that out when I'm back." She doesn't need to tell Jane that Francis had been hoping that she'd do an Internship at his lab. Some people get a bit freaked out sometimes, because Francis is nine years older than she is. What can she say? She has a thing for older guys.

Jane glances at her, and she thinks she hears a bit of worry in her voice. "You know that it'll be five months till then, right?"

Darcy shrugs, emptying her cup. Damn, this stuff is good. She would have liked to know Jane's grandma. She must have been a fierce lady if she handed this stuff to kids. "Yeah, well. I told him its okay if he doesn't want to wait, it was his choice." Had she picked up that offer for the Internship at Vulcan he couldn't just come and visit, either. And he would be gone a lot during her time in college, too, at that 'Jupiter Station'. If he couldn't deal with being separated from her for half a year, they could just call this off. She wouldn't plan her whole life around being with this one guy. "Anyway. You said we have to celebrate, right? Let's talk about that. What are we celebrating?"

She observes as Jane reaches for the folder she brought up with the blankets, and sits up a bit when Jane hands her the thing. She brushes one of the strands of hair that sneaked out of her loose ponytail back as her eyes roam over a couple of printed photographs and some spreadsheets she's not sure she gets. But she can tell, from a first glance, that this is about Jane's research.

So far, Jane has not been very open in telling her what it is about. Maybe she's suspicious, maybe she doesn't want to bore Darcy. But what one of the pictures shows is a weird light source in a sky. A multicoloured lightning thing? "Is that a thunderstorm? And what is this place, is that a castle on a mountain?"

Jane sits up too, and leans over. She points at the thunderstorm. "That's in a southern part of Germany. It appears to be something _like_ a thunderstorm, in a way. Maybe more like a thunderstorm-aurora. Basically, it's energy density that is negatively related to the vacuum energy and it arbitrarily-"

Darcy groans. "Jane, simple. _Simple!_ "

Jane pauses, and frowns a bit at Darcy, slightly frustrated. Like she didn't really remember how simple worked. But then, with a deep sigh, tried again. "Okay, well, it's just a theory. It's not even about _what_ it is yet, but what we're celebrating is that I was able to _foresee_ it."

Darcy blinked a bit, and looked at some more pictures of this thunderstorm-thing. She was tempted to simply say 'So?', but she was pretty sure that would offend Jane. "Okay." She says, slowly, instead. "You foresaw this happening in Germany? And this is a big thing."

Jane rolls her eyes, and takes the folder from Darcy again. "Sometimes I forget that you're not a in the science-branch."

Darcy grinned. "Thanks."

Jane simply waved if off. "It is a big thing, because we still don’t have proof for the actually _existence_ of this phenomenon. I've spent years observing and gathering data, calculating possible places. And this time I was able to locate time and place and I found someone there willing to take photographs. I've calculated twenty-four more spots that this could happen in within the next six months. Three of which are here, in New Mexico."

Darcy hands her cup to Jane, who refills it without asking. She also can't help but grin, when she sees the excited glint in Jane's eyes. "So we'll see this thunderstorm-thing and play paparazzi as well. Awesome. I'm proud of you Jane, even if I'm not in the science-branch."

Jane laughs a little. Just how often Jane laughed tonight already is a good indicator of how much this means to her. "Yeah, well, thanks. I want to get another opinion on this, though. Now that I have this, I'll call a mentor of mine who's in Norway right now and ask him to come here. He probably will only make it to the second or third occurrence, but that's not that bad. He said if I can deliver proof, he'll support me where he can. And we could really use the support, you've seen the state the lab is in."

Darcy tries, desperately, not to gloat over the 'we' in there. Instead, she nods with her most serious expression. "Alrighty. Then let's hope that your storm will be on time, then." They both fall silent for a moment, before Darcy chuckles. "You know what? When you're famous, I'll write your biography. 'Waiting for the storm'. Or maybe 'The Storm Chaser'. That sounds really dramatic."

Jane throws a cushion at Darcy, who squeaks, but she smiles as well. "Very funny. And tragically true. My whole life and work depends on these storms."

Darcy pushes the cushion under her head and wraps herself more tightly into the blanket. "Did you ever consider just going to those storms? I mean, going to space? You love it so much, it's just kind of weird that you're not working for Star Fleet yet."

Jane falls into a tense silence, and Darcy can't help but think that she must have dropped a brick. Open foot, insert mouth. But then Jane speaks up, finally. She sounds tired, though, and Darcy regrets asking. "I wanted to, once. My father was with Star Fleet and I was in the Academy, too. But… I'm not cut out for it. I actually like to be free, I like to do things my way, I need to be able to do it my way. I can't blindly follow rules and orders. And Star Fleet is cramped with regulations. They don't appreciate duct-tape-machines, either. And my research would never be truly mine. I'd rather work and live with the bare minimum than to make the same mistake other people of my trade made before."

The longer she spoke her drained voice gained a hard edge, and Darcy can't help but think that it's less of a dropped brick but more salt in an open wound. "And what mistake would that be?"

Jane tears her eyes away from the stars, and turns her head to look at Darcy. There's determination in her face, and resolution. For a moment Jane reminds her a bit of Maria when Maria mentions her job or the Fury-man. "To become tools for the military. Or just to become blatant weapons for a power-hungry company like Star Fleet."

Darcy falls silent now, tearing her gaze away from Jane and instead looks at the Teddy. Power hungry company, huh? She wonders what Maria would think of _that._ What Jodie would say to _that._ They're both so devoted to Star Fleet. Uncle Phil and her mother, too. She grew up surrounded by people who were practically married to that company. She stares at the Teddy that just sits there on her deck chair.

And then there's Jane voice, and it's soft again. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. I'm sure I'm just exaggerating; I'm not unbiased towards them. I didn't mean to…"

Darcy waves it off. "No, it's okay. You know, its… it's good. To hear someone say it. My family is very involved in it all, I barely even questioned working for Star Fleet myself." She shrugs and tries a smile, back at Jane, who looks so worried now. "You know, my mom died working for Star Fleet. It's not like I don't know that they're not the pacifists they try to appear like. I sometimes wonder if Star Fleet truly is the place for me, too."

Jane rolls to her side, mimicking Darcy's position, and wraps herself tighter in her blanket. "Did you get that Teddy from her?" She nods slightly in the direction of the old worn thing.

Darcy smiles and reaches out for it, to hug it tight. She never once felt like she was growing too old for it. "No, I got that from a childhood friend. I was terribly sick when I was a kid, after my mum and my uncle died, and he visited me when I was recovering and gave it to me as a gift. I promised to take care of it for him."

Jane smiles, and her smile is soft, too. Darcy is just glad that there is no awkward smile or a smile full of pity. She still can't deal with that. "That's nice. Are you still friends?"

Darcy shrugs, and rolls over again, looking at the stars, the Teddy cuddled to her chest. She tries to remember him, when she first saw him, standing behind her tree. The contours of his face have started to become blurry with time, she doesn't even have a picture or anything. The only thing that stayed sharp and clear is the memory of his eyes from that night in the hospital, when he brought the Teddy and said his farewells. "He had to move away and we lost touch. But… if I see him again? Yeah, I'd say we still are."

Jane rolls over, too, and she sighs. "I get that." And then, after a pause, she continues. "When I was a kid my friends became the stars. I learned all of them by heart, night for night, when my parents were fighting. Before they split up. I think that's why I'm so fixated on them. A bit… silly, isn't it?"

Darcy laughs, heartily. "Really? That's no more silly than carrying around a Teddy for the rest of my life. Talking about stars. Where was that Rat-sign again?"

* * *

 

_2270, San Francisco_

He stares at his packed suitcase, and goes through a list in his head. No, he's pretty sure he has everything. All the files on any associated people to Stark Industries, all of Natasha's typed up observations, all of the video footage on Stark's most recent media stuns are on his pad. A set of change clothes and the common weaponry. He's good to go.

When the door bell rings, he pauses briefly. The recently installed computer system of the building informs him that it's the Admiral, and he tells the computer to unlock the door. He goes to his living room to greet Nick with a bit of a tired smile. "You're coming over late. I was just about to head of to Stark's."

Nick makes an annoyed gesture with his hand, and lets himself just fall into a armchair, not even bothering to slide out of his leather coat first. "Don't bother with punctuality with that guy. Do you still have some of that scotch?"

Phil raises one eyebrow, but wordlessly goes to get it from the cabinet. When Nick asks for alcohol right away, something is up. Lately, that happens more frequently. The pressure is building up on the Admiral again, especially since that mission to Budapest that Natasha and Clinton were on. It looks more and more like everything Erskine had claimed was becoming true. And yet… and yet they had no lead as to where they should start looking for the remains of Section 31. Or the remains of those Augments.

He returns to the living room with two glasses of scotch, and sits down on the couch. "What did Stark do now," he asks, in a resigned tone he can't help, Nick looks at him with this expression. ' _Do you even need to ask?_ '

He gulps down half of the content of the glass before he replies. "He's a fucking annoying brat. Someone should have given Howard and Maria more time off to raise their kid and teach him some manners."

Phil almost smiles. Yes, someone should have, maybe. He doesn't remind Nick that 'this brat' is already 43 years old. In Stark's case, that's not saying much. Sometimes, Phil has no idea how Virginia Potts, Stark’s PA, handles this guy. But she's doing it well, so he's not complaining. "Is he still pestering you about the Initiative, Sir?"

Nick rolls his eye and just throws the rest of the scotch back in one gulp. "Damn right he is. Can't keep his fingers to himself, constantly breaching into our files. Tell Miss Potts to rein him in or we'll have to do something about his big, phallic ego-tower." Phil nods dutifully, but he really is unable to keep from smiling. To threaten Tony about air-rights and things like that was slowly becoming a tad bit old. Especially, since half of that Tower technically belongs to Miss Potts, and she would fight like a lioness about it. But it's not like the Admiral doesn't know that himself.

Phil decids to change subjects. "Is there anything new on Doctor Banner?"

Nick rubs his face, and nods. "Romanoff has been working with Erskine on this, she's been to the East a lot. They think they have a lead and want to send someone out to him, preferably you and Barton, but I've put it on hold for now. We don't need to stress someone with anger-issues out over nothing."

Nick is still pissed about the last time they had a lead on that guy. Some guy from the military branch had had a personal vendetta with him and had headed out to hunt him down. The only thing that had brought them was destruction, and the loss of Scientist Elizabeth Ross, who had gone in hiding ever since.

Erskine had initially been hoping to get in touch with Dr. Banner's father – David – but had used the time in their labs in England to read up on David's son and on Elizabeth Ross. By now Erskine is sure that the son has surpassed his father, and he has asked them to see if they can reach out to Bruce or Elizabeth instead. They had half expected to find them in the same place, together, but Elizabeth Ross remains in hiding, while they have been able to track down Bruce in India. And by now, they have multiple interests in him. Not just his scientific abilities, but also in ' _the other guy'_.

However, thinking about Dr. Banner makes Nick unhappy on a whole other level. Not just the guys own tragic story, but the stories that could be. The Hulk was an experiment with Erskine's earlier research gone wrong. If fucking Admiral Marcus had been tinkering with the Augments it meant that there is maybe another serum out there. And it could bring them another 'Hulk'. Or something as fucked up as that 'Blonsky'. Or, possibly even worse, another 'Khan'. It is all a fucking nightmare. And of course they leave him to fix it.

Nick sighs, and gets up, eying Phil. He still looks like shit, though a bit better. Sometimes he wonders what he would have done if Phil had indeed shown any signs that the fucking Augment-blood had altered him. "Contact me when you're back from Stark's. It's time for another of your check-ups."

Phil nods, and gets up as well, taking the empty glass from the Admiral's hands. "I will. Have a good night, Sir." Nick nods, absentmindedly, as he heads out of Phil's flat again, into the night.

"Yeah, you too. You, too."

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexico, in the middle of Nowhere_

Good heavens, Darcy should have brought more coffee. She feels like her eyelids are made of stone, and she simply wishes to go to sleep this second. But she cannot, can she? This is the great night Jane has been working on, the reason why her mentor-dude Dr. Selvig is here now.

He's an okay guy, but terribly old and so grumpy sometimes. And she doesn't like how he down-talks to Jane. She's been with the woman long enough to get that Jane gets that a lot, for being a science lady. And to see that someone she clearly values so much does it so casually without being called out for it? It has kind of eaten all her motivation for this. And there's also the fact that Jane alone was a heap of science and sleep-deprivation already, but together they have been constantly in the lab in the last 46 hours. And Darcy feels very much like a zombie now, thank you very much. She's still a kid, she needs her sleep to grow into a big girl!

She grips the steering wheel a little harder as she hears Jane and Selvig speaking. It's not their first time chasing down one of those phenomenons, now that they seem to have started appearing here. It's the third time in – what, a month? – that she's doing it. Never gets old though. She still feels the adrenalin of panic driving in the darkness, seeing practically nothing. Jane is sticking her head outside of the roof of the old van, too, and no help down here. Had she really liked that thing before, for being so 'antique'? She takes that back. A modern car with a glass roof and an autopilot would be so much more useful now. Sheesh.

Half an hour passes with nothing happening, though, and Jane and Selvig climb back in again. Darcy yawns. "Can I turn on the radio?" She calls to the back. She notes the tense edge in Jane's voice when she answers with a sarcastic response about the sound of agriculture. Yeah. Well. A part of her shares in Jane's excitement and has sympathy for her situation – finally having convinced her mentor to come all the way here, and of course this time of all times her weird thunderstorm-thing doesn't show up. But still. Another part of her has no doubt that it'll show itself eventually. She trusts Jane with this.

It still takes a while, though. She's just about to ask Jane if she can get up and grab some coffee when she notes the flash in the side mirror. She leans over, adjusts it, holding her breath. There it is. A weird glowing ball of… clouds? It looks like someone's throwing a dance party up there. So it's happening again. She leans back a bit when she sees the light getting intensified. Somehow it looks bigger than the two times she's seen. And bigger than she remembers it looking in the photographs. She's used to it being different, but this? "Jane?"

She calls up and get's an annoyed shushing noise. "Something's wrong. Maybe a variable or a malfunction of the equipment…"

Darcy grows slightly impatient herself. Jane's equipment is impeccable and she only suggests this because of Eric's darn comment about them being unprofessional because of the duct-tape. "Er… no, listen…" and then the lights of Jane's weird self-made-machines flicker and the monitors squelch. Static. Just like the last time. Just that this time, they're much further away from where the lights are. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Her adrenaline seems to rise excitedly. Well, damn. "I really don't think that there's anything wrong with your equipment."

Jane doesn't answer, though, and Darcy hears her open the damn champagne bottle. Now? Really?! " _Jane_!"

Jane's pitch is rising. Like a student who is supposed to hold a presentation but her power point doesn't work. Awesome. "What, _Darcy_?!"

Darcy points out of the window, and she tries to not sound as excited and maybe just slightly worried as she is. She needs to keep cool, Jane flips her shit over her 'SCIENCE!' way too easily. A bit like Maria about politics sometimes. "I think you want to see this."

Jane and Selvig simultaneously decide to look the direction Darcy is pointing. And Darcy can hear Jane's relieved exhale first– and then the deep inhale, when there's _thunder._ Which, yeah. That hasn't been there before. Jane curses, Selvig sounds suddenly and finally like he is really excited for this for once. Starting to take her serious now, is he? "This is your _subtle_ aurora?"

"No— _yes_ … let's go!" She doesn't need to ask Darcy twice.

Afterwards, when she tries to clear her head and get it all in order, she couldn't really explain how it had happened. First there had been the clouds, then there had been storm, and then there had been her crazy science lady trying to get her to drive them into the storm. There had been squabbling over whether they wanted to _drive into the storm and_ _freaking die (_ essentially Jane's option) or _get the hell out of this shit_ (Darcy's preferred choice, thankyouverymuch), some yanking on the steering wheels and loosing control of the SUV, and then there had been this guy in the middle of that place where the storm had been – which was physically impossible, the storm should have yanked him up and thrown back to the other end of the desert - and… yeah. They might have … bumbped him, accidentally, a bit.

And the storm had been… gone? Within seconds it had all been over. The only thing left behind were pictures to prove that anything had happened at all. And some bat-shit-crazy marks on the ground that reminded Darcy of fantasy stories. It had been weird. Oh, and that guy that Jane had hit with the SUV and that Darcy had tasered after he had woken up and started screaming really weird stuff. Yeah, that had seemed bat-shit-crazy as well. Like he was stoned. And Darcy knew plenty of weird and stoned. But this? This would go down in the history of her little world. And, you know, of the whole science world, too. No doubt about that one.

* * *

 

_2270, California, Malibu_

Phil is sitting in a quiet corner of the jet meant to bring him to New Mexico. He just got in, after having said his farewells for the moment to Miss Potts. She's a truly formidable woman, and a part of him regrets that she probably wouldn't appreciate it too much if he would try to recruit her. A woman who can handle this oversized kid called Tony Stark and can make it look like it doesn't take any effort at all would probably be able to handle young agents in her sleep, without doing so much as blinking.

He was glad to get away after from babysitting Stark earlier than expected after not even one month – and she's been doing it for years. He wonders how she does it. Maintaining that calm and nice personality, not resorting to threats of violence like even he had been forced to do. She reminds Phil a bit of Jodie. Only that Pepper can do it all with a smile, whereas Jodie preferred to make you do her biding with a very icy stare. Even Maria would have flipped her shit. He promises himself to ask Miss Potts sometimes, maybe over coffee. His appreciation for her has never been higher.

His thoughts are interrupted when an inter-communicator-line pops up in the air before him with an incoming call from Maria in San Francisco. He opens the line, and is a bit surprised by the visuals provided. Maria has a blue eye and a bruised cheek, looking like she came out of a bar brawl, with her hair in a very unruly fashion. He tries to keep his face neutral. "Everything alright, Commander Hill?"

She knows what he's referring to and brushed one hand through her hair, self-conscious. "Yes. Yes, everything's fine. I just had to … quit a training session with Agent Romanoff." Since when is Maria training with Romanoff? He knows that they are acquaintances, but they work in vastly different fields. Romanoff specialises in infiltration and assassination, whereas Maria works in upfront politics. He tries to let his amusement at this not show too openly. Either way, it doesn't seem to fathom Maria much. "Look, we have a problem, Coulson. You can't go to New Mexico."

He raises one eyebrow. He has left Stark's place a mere… what, fifteen minutes ago. If Stark has managed to create yet another media heist and he has to go back there, he will make good of his promise to Stark to render him unconscious. "And why is that." This is his first official 'mission' again in eleven years. He can't help but sound a bit tense about it.

Maria turns to her right slightly. "Computer, please project the satellite images of New Mexico." The screen switches, and Coulson watches with growing impatience as Maria directs it to certain coordinates "See, this is the place where the unidentified object crashed, that has been described as a 'hammer' by the locals.” The place that he was headed, yes, he recognizes it. “And this…" the screen zooms out a bit, and Maria has it draw a softly glowing, yellow line to connect the two sports. "… is where an astrophysicist called Jane Foster has recently been able to unofficially prove her theory about Einstein-Rosen-Bridges."

Coulson sighs, and makes a waving gesture. "Yes, I've done my job and read the file, Maria. Get to the point, please."

The card disappears and Maria looks at him with a slight frown. "This mission will require you not only to take this object into your custody but also to get Dr. Foster's research and see if you can get her to accept a contract with S.H.I.E.L.D., or at least Star Fleet. And you would be required to make contact and serve as a liaison for Foster. And you can't do this, because _Darcy_ is currently doing an unpaid internship with Dr. Foster."

Phil falls silent, for a moment. Darcy has not been very forthcoming to Maria about where she would do her internship, and what exactly it would require of her. All she had told them was with whom she would do her internship, and he had not recognized the name. How had the girl been able to get entangled in this dangerous research? Had she been involved in whatever had brought that object to earth as well? The first data already suggested that this object was unearthly.

And then it hit him. Him, as the man Phil, not the Agent. After eleven years in hiding, he would be as close to his little girl as he could probably ever hope to be. He is tempted. Tempted to insist to use this opportunity to reveal himself. Over a decade had passed, people had forgotten about him. She would understand. But the Agent kicks in again. _Priorities_.

He sighs. "Why were we not informed about this earlier?" Maria crosses her arms over her chest, shrugging. "It wasn't in the official files, I just recognized the name."

Coulson raises an eyebrow at that. "Had there been no mention of her intern in the files the research division checked?"

Maria shook her head. "Dr. Foster seems to be… let's say 'Stark-level'-paranoid about Star Fleet and anyone involved, so she turned down all applications for internships so far. No one is officially listed to be her intern right now, so Admiral Fury couldn't have known it when assigning you there."

Phil shakes his head. Stark-level-paranoid doesn't sound like it would be easy to convince Foster to help them. Which is valuable information. Still, for now he wonders how Darcy managed to worm her way in there. "Why did Dr. Foster decide to take on Darcy, then? She's not specialised in astrophysics, or physics. Or even engineering. Last time I checked she was filed under a focus on interracial, intergalactic and planetary politics. And she is in the official applications for Star Fleet Academy."

Maria steps out of her role as an Agent for a moment, and nonchalantly shrugs. "I can’t tell you how Darcy has persuaded that woman to accept her. Dr. Foster's internship is not one open for Academy Aspirants. Darcy got green light from the Head of the Academy to do this unaccredited and unpaid, though, so Dr. Foster doesn't have to even list her. And as Darcy's officially not getting anything noteworthy out of this, the Academy never bothered to pass on her information along with the other student's information."

He nods, crossing his arms now, too. He sees how it happened, yes. He isn't sure what to do about it, though. "I will still go through with this mission, as long as Admiral Fury doesn't call me back, Hill."

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. "And how, exactly, do you plan to be liaison to Foster without revealing yourself to Darcy? Because _if_ you plan on revealing yourself you won't even be able to say a last prayer before Nick will call you back. For good. No chance at another mission for a while. And you waited a decade for this chance, Phil."

He nods, sighing. Of course his first mission as team leader can't just be simple and easy. "I am aware of that. I will have one of my team stand in for me when it comes to direct contact with Foster for now. I'll have to administer this from the background."

He can see the scepticism on Maria's face, even as she nods. "This could work, yes. But you can't just send one of your Agents-in-training out there as a straw puppet, Phil. This is too risky. You have mainly level 3 agents with you. The only one on your current team with a clearance level meeting the requirements would be Sitwell, and he can't work as your right hand and the liaison at the same time."

Phil smiles at that. His eyes flicker to the front part of the jet. "Actually, I have someone here with clearance level eight."

Maria narrows her eyes a bit, looking at something to her left again. Doubtlessly checking the people he requested beforehand. "And who would that be?"

Phil leans to his side, and makes a waving gesture to catch his trump-card’s eye. He was actually just meant to drop him off in New Mexico to meet up with his partner for a mission, but seems like he would be needed for a bit.

Clint comes over immediately. "What's up, Phil?" Phil makes a vague gesture towards the intercom-line. "Agent Hill just informed me that there are complications in my mission. Would you be willing to step in as a temporary liaison for Dr. Foster and her team?"

Clint raises a brow. "I thought I was given off-time for a bit now. I don't do liaison, especially not for scientists. They’re like badly mannered children, always whiny and obsessed with their work."

Phil still smiles. "I was hoping that you'd may be willing to change your mind given the information about the people you'd be in contact with."

Clint shrugs, glances at Maria as if he could read from her face what is going on. "Well? And who do you think would tempt me?"

Phil types something on his pad, and the intercom line projects the pictures of Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig and Darcy. Clint's eyes notably pause on the picture of Darcy, with the name flickering beneath it. The corner of his lips twitch in amusement, before the pictures disappear again and he looks back at Phil. "Well, Agent. Consider me in."

He turns and leaves, but when he is out of the range that Maria can see him, he looks back at Phil, and mouths _'you sneaky bastard_.' Phil just smiles. He looks back at Maria, who doesn't look too happy. "Well, Agent Barton just joined my team. Will that solve the problem?"

She sighs, brushing the hair out of her face. Her voice is lowered a bit, and she sounds less like Commander Hill than Maria in this moment. "You think it's a good idea to have him meet Darcy now? And this way? I thought there was a reason you made him not visit Ben and Jodie while she was there."

A part of him agrees. The part of him that made Clint promise not to go and visit his former foster parents and Darcy, to stay away from the child. He had not wanted her to get involved too much with S.H.I.E.L.D. He didn't want her to become a target or to be recruited too early. Deborah wouldn't have wanted it. And as much as he knew that Ben and Jodie were good foster parents for her, a part of him had even regretted that much, because Jodie would undoubtedly push the girl towards it. And even Ben, who had practically worshipped her grandmother, would probably not be able to detain himself. Ben doubtlessly hoped to make a second Peggy Carter out of her, that's why he was always playing chess with her, like Peggy had done with him. Training her to strategize, think clearly.

But it seemed like the universe had its plans for Darcy Lewis. And here she was, already getting entangled. If there truly was a connection between Dr. Foster's research and this alien object? Well, there was no way he could keep Darcy out of it. And though he probably should feel guilty about it, a different part of him than the worried guardian was just too ready to accept this. To bring her into this world of his, to make her less of a civilian. And that part knew very well that there could be no better protection for her than Clint. And he felt no shame over having used Clint's interest in this foster-sister of his, if one wanted to use this term. So he doesn't say much about anything of it. "I think it's not the worst idea right now, Maria."

And she seems to accept it, trusting his judgement. "I'll pass this on to Admiral Fury. For now, you may proceed as planned. Hill over." And the line went dead.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexico, Puente Antiguo_

Okay. This thing for older guys she's developing? It might be getting a bit out of hand. Darcy had run into Jane's lab just as Jane had when she had yelled 'Hey, that's my stuff!'. Darcy had been fully prepared to yell as well.

Somehow, though, she forgot about that. She really can't help but to shamelessly eyeball the guy in his black suit and with his black glasses. Which he had just pushed down slightly, as he heard Jane's call and turned towards them. It's easy to tell that he's the head of this scheme, if merely because unlike the others he's not wearing a jacket to his suit-pants and his white shirt, and his black tie isn't even tied properly. He just stands there, with his hands in the pockets of his black pants, and oozes charisma and testosterone. Urgh. So attractive, it shouldn't be allowed.

So Darcy really tries to remind herself of Francis, of his black hair and blue eyes and his sometimes a bit bashful smile when he does something that he only realizes a moment later to be a bit cheesy or romantic. They’re not officially over yet. They had just put their relationship on ice, for a while. Her endearing Francis was so patient with her, he didn’t deserve her ogling the next best suit-guy to come to this place in the middle of nowhere. Not when she forbade him to come so she could ogle him, right? Right. She was cool. She was …

And then the suit-guy sees her and he eyeballs here just as she eyeballed him. And when he looks at her face he smirks and she is done. She is so done with this world, and she lets go of any reservations. Well, she'll be damned. This man is shamelessly hot and she won't deny it or… she hears Jane shout another "Hey" and flinches.

Urgh, Darcy. No. Bad Darcy. Not a good time to ogle good-looking guy. She tries to calm herself. Think of his age. How old might he be? End of thirty. Maybe. How bad would a fifteen-year age gap be? Aren't guys said to age more slowly? Jodie had said something like that. Just getting better with age. She sighs. And then he strolls over to them, thrusting out his hand in a very suave manner to Jane. "Doctor Foster. My name is Agent Francis Hawk. I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Darcy feels like turning and rushing away. Goddammit. Why does his name have to be _Francis_? Is this the universe punishing her for having so unchaste thoughts? She is not a good friend to Jane. She should focus here!

She is focused enough to note that Erik flinches a bit at the mention of the name of Shield. Whatever that is. Which Jane doesn't seem to notice. She is angered, and rightfully so. "I don't care who you work for, you can't do this!"

Erik reaches out for her, and the hot Agent-dude notes this too. His expression is fully calm, he doesn't seem perturbed by Jane's freak out in the slightest. "Jane, this is more serious than you realise. Let it go."

Jane shrugs of Erik's hand, and she stares at him, rightful anger and hurt seething in her eyes. "Let it go?! This is my life!" Darcy is distracted as a guy with the suit brushes by her with a box full of stuff. She blinks, as she notes a small eagle-imprint on the box. What the hell. This looks familiar…

Darcy slowly backs away from the group, and now tries to take in what is going on. She notes that there are guys standing at another part of the room, who seem to do nothing but just observe this. And they have that eagle sign on their leather uniform. They are armed, she realises, with a bit of horror.

What the hell. Is this what Erik meant with 'serious'? Because if so, serious might be a bit of an understatement here. Darcy slowly backs towards the part of the room where they are loading things in a vehicle. A big fucking vehicle, looking big fucking expensive. What are they, the mafia? She leans against a table, and tries to grab one of Jane's memory unit and her iPod and stuff it into the pocket of her pants.

And then there's a polite cough to her right, and the guy, who has been fighting with Jane, walks over to her, holding out his hand. Jane seems to want to follow him, but Erik has her by her shoulders and is talking to her in a lowered voice. The wrong-Francis doesn't seem to care much. There is amusement on his face again. "Would you hand me those, please?"

Darcy tries an innocent eyeflutter. "What? I'm not dangerous, I'm just the intern."

He tilts his head a bit. "Interns are usually the most dangerous part of a lab. Rookies are always very prone to do reckless things. Now please hand me that storage device."

Darcy rolls her eyes, as she notes that Erik has noted what she tried and is making a cut gesture over his throat. Cut out the crap, should she? She isn't the one who tried to steal Jane's stuff. She's trying to be the hero here. Still, she sighs dramatically, and pulls her iPod from her pocket, making a show of placing it reluctantly in the guys palms. "It's just music, you know. Very _fantastic_ music, yes, and I would like to have it back _pronto_ , but nothing science-y. I don't know science, Agent-man."

Super hot Hawk-dude doesn't fall for it. If anything, his stupidly sexy grin widens into a smirk, as he pockets the iPod and holds out his hand again. "Yes. And that is why I would like the other storage device now, Miss Lewis."

Darcy blinks. What the hell. He even knew _her_ name? Those mafia-dudes sure did their homework. She scowls. She considers refusing to hand it out, or to play dumb, but she's sure that the guy wouldn't even flinch to have her killed for this. If he has the nerve to stand here and smile at her while stealing everything Jane has he can't have much of a conscience. It bursts out from her in a wave of emotions as she sees Jane trying to steal things back from the SUV, verbally cursing everyone in the room into oblivion. "You're evil, Hawk-dude. You're on my shitlist," she growls and kind of throws the memory unit into his palm.

The Agent dude chuckles. "Whatever you say, Miss Lewis." And then he turns, and makes a small gesture. Everyone in the room stops whatever they were doing and move towards the vehicles parked outside. Darcy follows him, determined to see if she can help.

The Hawk-dude pauses in front of Jane, and she seems to try again. "Listen. Everything I know about this phenomenon is in this lab or in this notebook. And no-one has the right to take it from me."

The Hawk-dude pauses, makes a short motion, and some suit-guy appears at Jane’s side and just picks the book out of her hand, leaving Jane stunned. The wrong-Francis thrusts his hands into his pockets. "Thank you for your cooperation, Dr. Foster. You will hear from us." And then, as if on a second thought, he takes out the iPod, and glances down at it, glancing back at them. He smiles, briefly. "I promise that we'll take good care of everything." And then he goes. Darcy places a hand on Jane's shoulder, ready to hold her back, but all of her will to fight seems to have left Jane. She just stands there, staring after them.

Mentally, Darcy takes everything back. That hawk-dude is so not hot. And she will make all of them pay… some way or another.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexico, Puente Antiguo_

Humanity. He had never been able to resolve whether or not he held them in esteem or if they were disappointing race in their entirety for their lack of depth. So delicate, so mortal. Physically not unlike them, on a first glance, but severely lacking, in all went beyond the physical. They were so small minded, held no greater power.

And yet, it held appeal, this frailty of theirs. It had helped some of them to reach out for things beyond them, to challenge their mind, to surpass any predictions made about them. Over a mere couple of centuries they had reached greatness, had reached for the stars. It would become truly amusing once they reached for what they called magic and refused to acknowledge yet. It would be the day that he would see what some of his fellow Asir predicted, the day that humanity would reach for Asgard.

For now, though, as he stood unseen in their middle, between group of men who thought themselves the protectors of this world, superior in knowledge and abilities, Loki just felt bored. They were not worth his time, and were it not here, that this brother of his had managed to be captured, Loki would have left already.

But as it were, Thor in his mortal form was detained and being questioned. He had failed to retrieve his hammer, and thus, failed to pose a thread again. Thor was as frail and as disappointing as the rest of this human race, even if he had once held more.

And it had taken that load of Loki's mind. His mother had spoken of loopholes, of his father's scheme. It was not what Loki saw in this. If there was a loopholes in these words of Odin, telling the myth of being worthy of the power of Thor or Mjolnir, it was not one that his brother would find. Riddles and Puzzles had never been a friend of his.

And this cheerful thoughts were what gave him patience to wait, to amuse himself in looking through these mortals database of knowledge in the device that they had called computer. It was ancient and childlike, compared to the technology that Asgard held. Humanity thought itself so advanced, yet he was effortlessly able to gather all he wished from this computer system of theirs, without having to bother to mask his traces in them.

Idly, he listen to the men in the room speaking, clearly waiting as he was for their superior to leave Thor. "He might be one of them. We know that there is the possibility of four unknown Augments out there."

The man whose uniform differs slightly from those of the others snorts. "Sitwell, I have yet to meet the guy, but I've seen the data. Our dear 'Captain America', our only living base for comparison, isn't even restored to his full power yet and he would still be able to beat him to a pulp. I've observed him, and he fights ruthlessly, yes, like he thinks he's untouchable. Maybe like someone who fought in a war. Hell, many wars. But not like someone whose body was engineered to be a 'Super Soldier'."

The man with the glasses didn't seam to be convinced. "I would still recommend passing this on to Admiral Fury, Agent Barton."

Loki is intrigued enough to observe them more careful. It is not the tale of the mundane hero they call 'Captain America' that peeked his interest. It is the tale of the Augments. He had learned on this chapter of human history half a decade after it had passed. Asgard had watched earth closely in those days. One of the few points in human history that had troubled the Allfather’s mind. The dearest father of his had sent his thoughts to earth, had considered intervening, so as to not let humanity bring war upon the galaxy. If there truly were some left, of these changelings, in this time of his father’s deep sleep, it was the sound of a promise to his mind. Loki smiled.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexico, Puente Antiguo_

She has absolutely no idea if she and Francis are still good, but right now, she knows that it all had happened for a reason. In fact, she would like to take this moment and mentally thank all the spirits or gods or whatever for Francis Tyderman and his obsession with anything considered computers. If not for him, she wouldn't be sitting here right now, hammering away on the keyboard in the library like a maniac.

Sure, Jane had raised an eyebrow and told her that _later_ she would have to tell her _everything_ as to why exactly she was able to hack herself through a security system so easily. But right now her boss-lady just seemed pretty thankful that, apparently, the false ID she had hacked for her hottie worked. Darcy practically smashed the enter key and throws her hand up in the air with a whooping sound. Jane almost jumps, startled. "What the…? Did it work?"

Darcy twirls around on her swivel chair, grinning stupidly broad. "Hell yeah. Your man, alien or god or whatever the fuck he is, is now officially considered to be Dr. Donald Blake, employed at Culver's Astronomy Ward."

Jane sighs, relieved and even hugs Darcy briefly. "Good. He is my only proof that all of this happened and I'm not going crazy."

Darcy grins, and winks at Jane. It's good to see her even smile a bit. "Yeah, sure, _proof_. Whatever you tell yourself at night."

She ignores the indignant "Darcy Margaret Lewis!" and turns around again, facing the computer, making sure to erase her traces in the system as best as she could. She just hopes that those weird Men in Black that just _stole_ everything from Jane won't look too hard. She had not been able to forge a full curriculum vitae on him, and the real Donald Blake, whose identity she stole (justified, she can't help but think, he stole many years of Jane's life), got his degree in Medicine, not in astrophysics. But, whatever.

She keeps her fingers crossed that it works. It feels very good to be able to steal something from them now, she has to admit. Revenge: best served sweet and in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico. Hah. Take that, iPod stealing thief Agent Hawk.

"I'll go and see if Luke's still open. And if so we'll have to celebrate!" Jane calls out as she leaves the room, openly trying to refrain from _skipping._ So worth it, Darcy can't help but think.

Though a small part of her… ah, well. A part of her can't help but think that Maria would be so _not_ proud of her abilities right now. Aminah would maybe be impressed, a bit, but proud? She can't help but cringe. Hopefully, this won't come back to bite her in the ass later. Hopefully this wouldn't end up as the 'impressive story' on her desk that Director Uhura requested. Urgh.

* * *

 

_2270, California, Malibu_

"Sir, there has been a security breach at Culver University's Astronomy Ward." A slight pause follows after the announcement from the voice with the British accent, and then there's the sound of rolls moving over marble as a creeper dolly slides through the room with a man lying on top of it.

"Awesome, Jarvis. And now comes the part where you tell me why exactly this is something you think you have to tell me. Can't you see I'm working?"

The computer system’s reply is maybe just a tad sarcastic. "Certainly, Sir. You are funding Culver's Astronomy Ward and have many times suggested that they should let you implement a new security system, which they have refused. You asked me to inform you when someone else finds the loopholes, because of you benevolent nature."

Tony Stark pauses, before he slides back through the room and back under the car in his lab. Still, his snort is audible. "Those weren't my words. I told you to tell me when someone else sees just how ridiculously lazy and stupid those scientists at Culver are sometimes, so I can throw them a party and gloat."

Still, he smirks, entirely pleased with himself. He takes something out from the motor, and then slides out of the car again, placing the piece to the other side of the room on his stomach. The shirt is ruined because of a small run in he had with his robot-arm dumm-E before anyway, a blotch of oil won't matter now. And he is almost sure that Pepper likes it when he smells of these old-fashioned oil things. Greasy. "Well, then. Save it for later and make sure to track back to the person who did the thing." Though he did see the loophole ages ago, it's not like it is something anyone could do.

"Indeed." And then, after a pause, Jarvis adds. "Sir, SHIELD has accessed the data that has been altered."

Tony pauses, as he places the oily thing on a shelf, reaching for the replacement part. Huh, now that's a twist. Technically, he was their consultant or something now, so it probably should matter to him if someone tried to trick them. He just wonders what SHIELD could want from Culver. They never tell him anything. He should be hurt, really. "What file was it?"

Still lying on his back on the creeper dolly, he slides to the centre of his room, and Jarvis projects an ID. Tony tilts his head a bit. A broadly grinning fellow is to be seen. "Donald? What a stupid name." So someone had identified themselves falsely as Dr. Donald Blake of Culver University to them, huh?

"Sir, do you want me to open an intercom line to Agent Coulson?" Tony scratches his forehead, for a moment forgetting about the oil on his fingers. Call Agent Agent?

"Nah. They'll find that one out easily enough." He is almost disappointed that someone with the ability to see the loophole in Culver's security had done it for something as petty as a false ID. Not some cool virus, or to steal cool science projects. "And if they don't find it out they deserve that. Turn up the music again."

And with that, Tony slides back under the car. Later, he would ask Jarvis to give him the information about where the ID-forger had been, and who it had been. He likes investing in people with talent, and if the 'Development and Research' branch of Stark Industries needs someone with their abilities, he would remember them. He could send Pepper a note, or something. For now, though, he hums along as the Pokemon Themesong starts again from under his car.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexiko, Puente Antiguo_

Darcy caries a last white rabbit on her arm, ash she runs through the streets of Puente Antiguo. There is the sound of destruction all around her and she thinks she can taste a mixture of dust and fire in the air and on her lips whenever she inhales. And with every inhale the panic pushes against her sense – _because-she-was-not-prepared-for-this-thankyouverymuch_ – and she pushes it down again with every exhale, reminding herself to not stop. Never stop, don't pause, just keep doing. Don't even try to figure out why there is a giant-ass monster-sized robot wrecking this little town she came to like over the last two months.

It had been so good. So peaceful. Thor's friends had come for him, Jane had been so happy, they would have made this work, despite all her data being gone… and yet… this… She inhales sharply as she presses the rabbit tightly to her chest – _she-should-have-just-taken-a-normal-internship_ – and exhales again. "Don't worry, Alice. I got someone for Baker; I'll get someone for you. We'll look for the toughest guy here, okay? It'll be fine."

Her feet pick up the pace, just as her heartbeat does, as if she can outrun the panic. She keeps talking, though, her eyes frantically scanning the place. "This really isn't how I imagined wonderland and adventures as a child. Giant Robots, Magic, Gods. No, okay. I did imagine something like this. Be careful what you wish for, huh, Alice? But we're in this together, okay?"

And then she sees Rick with T'vazia on his arm, and she exhales, before she cries out his name. He turns sharply, and comes running towards her. He scans her for wounds like the trained soldier he is. "You alright, kiddo?"

She nods and holds out the rabbit for him. He just takes it as if on instinct, though he looks down at the white thing in his arms a bit startled. At least T'vazia squeaks with happiness. She is oddly chipper anyway, in this mass panic. Is that the klingon heritage? "Can you take Alice with you when you leave town?"

He grimaces, but nods. "Yes. What about you and Dr. Foster? I saved you space in my Truck. Where's she?"

Her own heart makes a bit of a jump, she gestures wildly behind her. "She's helping, evacuating, staying. Fighting, I guess. She's down there. We're fine." _Oh-god-hopefully-she-s-really-fine._ Darcy has seen worse. She really has, right? She's lost people. So many people. She won't stand by and watch this time. And she won't lose anymore people. She _refuses_ to lose people.

She reaches out and brushes a hand through the little girl's dark curls, seeking eye contact with Rick. Trying to ooze strength and confidence, like Maria and Aminah. Though she thinks she's failing a bit. She probably looks a lot more like the white, red-eyed rabbit. "You really should go. I have no idea how long they'll keep him distracted and you're all T'vazia has left."

Rick doesn't seem to buy her play at confidence one bit, but then, slowly, he nods. Grimacing. Darcy has guessed right that he's just itching to fight himself, huh? But he sees her point. His grip on his daughter and the rabbit tightens a bit. "You're brave. Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam." His words are a low growl, but somehow they do calm her a bit. Darcy nods, because she really didn't know what to say to that, and turns to run back to where she had seen Jane last.

* * *

 

_2270, New Mexiko, Puente Antiguo_

In the end, Thor had truly hit both her's and Jane's life like a lightning strike, she can't help but muse just twenty-four hours later. There's a pink plaster with unicorns on her cheek, where some debris hat hit her, but otherwise she's… fine. And Thor is gone.

He had come out of nowhere, and he had been gone again within the blink of an eye. So quickly, that Darcy feels tempted to pinch herself, expecting to wake up from some really weird dream. He's been quite like a dream for Jane, who now, for once, has support in her theories. And he's been loud, and thunderous, and a phenomenon of nature, too. And the science-lady has fallen so hard that she has made it her new life mission to hunt down a way for him to come back. From Asgard. Wherever that was.

Darcy's life, too, has been just slightly tipped in a different direction, though. Wearily, she eyes the suits Erik is talking to, who were unloading all of Jane's things and put them back exactly where they had been. Jane isn't happy about it. She didn't want them here, and she's refused to work together with S.H.I.E.L.D. as much as she would refuse to work for Star Fleet. But Eric is adamant that she is behaving like a child, and that she should reconsider.

Darcy sighs, turning on her swivel chair. If only that Agent Hawk would have stayed. Her iPod has not been among the things they gotten back so far, and it's truly frustrating. She has no doubt that he's done it on purpose, too. That's what she got for trying to trick a mafioso, she supposes.

When her mobile rings, Darcy very nearly jumps out of her skin. Confused, she leaves the lab and Jane's more and more swelling voice, glancing at the unfamiliar number. "Hello? Science-wrangler speaking, what can I do you for?"

There is a pause at the other end of the line. "Miss Lewis. This is Uhura."

Darcy coughs. Oh god, she had been about to choke on her own spit from pure surprise. "What? Director? What er… is everything okay?"

The voice of the other woman sounds different over the line. And tense. Darcy wishes they were talking over an intercom line, so she could see if this was truly her. "That is part of the reason why I call. I realize this may be a surprise, but I would like to have a word with you. Are you alone?"

The question is weird, and makes Darcy want to make wild gestures at Jane, to come out here immediately so she was _not_ alone. People only ask this if they have bad news. A part of her mind conjures up memories of serious phone calls after her mothers death, after Phil's death. She fights them down with a big gulp, but still looked over her shoulder, back to where Jane is gesturing wildly at some suit, who looks a bit like a kicked puppy. She bites her lower lip. "Yes, I am. This sounds serious. Is this about the internship? Or is it a matter of life and dead? There has been a bit of… a tense situation here and I really should get back to work."

It is only half a lie. Darcy really wants to get back in there. Maybe her boss-lady will carve beneath Eric's overbearing pressure and will accept the S.H.I.E.L.D. contract if she doesn't get in there this second. He means well, but he is so… old and odd, sometimes. There is something about S.H.I.E.L.D. he isn't telling them, and Darcy doesn't want Jane to get entangled in this.

Darcy can hear Director Uhura sigh. "If you're referring to the Einstein-Rosen-Bridge that appeared in New Mexiko, and the events that followed, I'm in the picture. That is exactly what this is about. Miss Lewis, It is important that you listen to me. This is a safe line, no one can hear in on us, not even S.H.I.E.L.D."

Darcy pauses. Wait. Director Uhura knows what had been going down here? The _real_ story? She knows about S.H.I.E.L.D. ? And she doesn't want them to hear what this was about? Oh shit. This is the set-up for a horrible crime novel. Goddamit. She _knew_ they were the mafia. "Okay?" Her voice sounds a bit higher than she likes. She tries to play it cool. "Well, then, do we need codenames or something? If so, I want to be Taser. I just tasered an alien, you know. I think I should get committed to tasers."

Director Uhura doesn't let herself be distracted by that, though. Her voice remains calm. "You and Dr. Foster may have gotten yourself into quicksand, and I disdain … the methods that are being used against you. S.H.I.E.L.D. will try to get both of you and Dr. Foster to sign a contract and you should, under no circumstances, sign it."

A laugh free of humour breaks out from Darcy. Quicksand. Wonderful. Why does the director have to us an allegory that tells her she will die helplessly? And why is this exactly the kind of thing she has been think all day now? "You're scaring me a bit. What do they do, put concrete feet on people and blast them off into space?" Oh god, someone should just shut her up. But maybe Uhura doesn't notice the hysteria bubbling up in her. This is embarrassing.

"I doubt it. But they won't hesitate to silence you and Dr. Foster if you proof to be difficult. You need to be one step ahead of them if Dr. Foster doesn't want to lose her work for good." After a small pause, she adds. "You are a student of mine, Miss Lewis, and I esteem Dr. Foster's work. You have to trust me on it when I say that I have your best interest in mind."

Darcy let her breath escape in a surprised huff. Okay, this really does sound serious. Life-and-death-serious. Darcy grimaces. "Yes. I trust you, director. It's not like they grew on me or anything. But you said that if we become difficult, they'll silence us. Won't not signing the contract make us difficult?"

There are some clicking sounds at the other end of the line. No, not clicking. Typing. It sounds like someone is typing something on an old-fashioned keyboard. "Indeed it would. However, there are certain groups willing to stand in for you against S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm calling in a favour with an old friend of mine. She will list both of you as being employed elsewhere already, and S.H.I.E.L.D. will bite their teeth out when they take it up with that company."

Darcy, again, glances over her shoulder. "Director, shouldn't you be talking to Jane about that?"

Again, she hears the clicking sound. "I plan to, Miss Lewis. But it's currently easier to reach you without their notice than it is to reach her. And the fact that you still are there, in New Mexico, despite what happens? Well, it is all I need to know to be sure that you have Dr. Foster's best interest in mind as well. Or else you'd be on your bike and on your way back home, wouldn't you." For the first time, Darcy hears a hint of humour in Uhura's voice.

She smiles, uneasily stepping from one food to another. "I suppose so."

"Good. You will hear again from me and from your new employer."

Darcy stares at her worn shoes on the desert sand, and sighed. "Okay. Just one thing? Who is this employer?"

Another pause follows, and Darcy can practically feel the hesitation with the woman on the other line, unsure of whether or not to give her the name. "SI. Stark Industries. If that's all, I should get back to work. As should you. Thank you for your co-operation. We will be in touch."

And the line went dead. For just a moment, the Director's words remind Darcy a bit too much about the Hawk-dude when he had thanked Jane for her co-operation as well. But she tries not to think too much about it for now. That phone call has set of all kinds of alarm in her head. She doesn't need to spin conspiracy theories in her mind about that now.

Darcy goes back inside to help Jane against Eric's persuasion. With this new bit of information about their new employer, which Jane apparently applied for a while ago and who called _just_ now to tell them that they were accepted. Fantastic. She just hopes that she has done the right thing, and that this hasn't been the figurative jump from the frying pan into the fire.

* * *

 

_2270, Unknown Location, America_

One thing about walking through this underground base of S.H.I.E.L.D. with Admiral Fury was his commanding presence. It had been one of the things that Abraham had noted very early on. Otherwise empty rooms or hallways didn't seem empty anymore with him around, and where the resonating echo of anyone else’s footsteps would have been eerie, in his case it seemed just about right. Admiral Fury was the sort of man who Schmidt had always wanted to be. And yet he very clearly was everything Schmidt had despised, too.

The irony of it was not lost on him, and made him appreciate the Admiral all the more. They really seemed to get along, which had been a surprise for both of them. A welcome one, though. So when they walked down the hallway, Abraham Erksine felt very comfortable turning to Nicolas Fury with half a smile. "I've heard you had a dispute with your niece, Admiral?"

He sees the man glance at him, and he scowls. "Don't mention it. She's just being stubborn, like her goddamn mother."

Abraham smiles, wrinkles on the corner of his eyes deepening. "Ah, yes, I see. Kids seem to be very good at being like that."

Nick side-eyes him, with a bit of surprise. "I thought you didn't have kids."

Abraham feels tempted to point out that Nick doesn't have any kids, either, just a younger sister who was very… procreative. But it didn't really matter. "Not biological. But you probably know that I handpicked the kids back then, for the first run of the serum. Those augments were, to some degree, my children." And, thinking of Steve, whom they had just left in a different room to punch through some sandbags, he adds, "Still are, I should guess."

Nick seems to ponder this for a moment. He only looks up when a door at the end of the hallway is opened and a man comes out. The man's eyes light up as he sees them. Abraham eyes him, very sure that he has not seen him around. Still, the man gives his two guards trailing him a slide gesture and walks towards them.

"Admiral Fury. And Dr. Erskine. I am a great admirer of your work, I've read all of your books." Abraham tries to keep his smile as he shakes the man’s hand. He can't shake the feeling that he is being seized as the man keeps eying him. He is even too distracted to catch the man's name.

He does note the posture, and the gestures the man makes, his way of talking. Abraham has always had a quick mind and a keen eye. He had had to, seeing how many enemies he had. And that man is among the type of people that he never let close to himself. But then again, all he does these day is comparing people to other people he once knew. It's a sign of age, he's been told.

Still, he observes as the man briefly turns to Nick, to greet him too. But after an exchange on formalities, he turns to Abraham again, humour glinting in his eyes. "You know, we are actually very much alike. I've made it my business of making super soldiers myself."

Abraham's smile never wavers, but Nick tenses at his side. Before either of them can enquire, the man laughs, and it makes his whole body shake. "Figuratively speaking, of course." He gestures at both of the guards behind him. "I've organised our training programs." He nods his head slightly towards one of them. "Agent Triplett here is already one of the best. A real super soldier, I like to say."

Abraham tries to decide if this is a poor attempt at humour or maybe a backhanded offense. He has had both, more than enough. Actually, now that he thinks of it, the man’s particular stance and way of expressing himself reminds him of a different man he knew once. Zola. Frail and dwarfish as he had been, the swiss biochemist had had one of the most brilliant minds he had ever met, in a purely objective way. Sadly, it had also been one of the most twisted ones. He wonders what had become Arnim Zola after his laboratory in Germany had been destroyed in the War of the Nuclear Winter.

His train of thought is interrupted by Nick, who doesn't seem to have the patience for this. "We will talk more in the meeting later, Garett." And without waiting for a reply Nick moves on along the hallway, past the man.

Abraham follows, nodding at the agents they pass. Garett. He will try and remember the name, for now. "What meeting?"

Nick briefly looks at Abraham, as he holds open a door for him. "We will start Phase 2."

The Admiral doesn't notice the look Garett casts in their direction as they leave the hallway. He doesn't hear Garett's chuckle either. "Phase 2 is a bland name. I still think we should have called it 'The Reckoning'." But Abraham hears it. And it sends a shiver down his spine.

 

 

* * *

 

 

### AN

In case you're wondering: yes, I went there. We now have three vilainous parties in this fic. I blame it on some conversations with barnebucky about vilainous characters. How could I possibly exclude Loki from the mess that is this plot?

Okay. You didn't really think this chapter would go without an AN, right? Right. Better go at it now.

* Nyota is not actually the head of Star Fleet Higher Education. Nor is she really the headmisstress of the academy. I just made that bit up, to be honest, because I am annoyed that we know what happened with Kirk and Spock. But barnebuck likes her, and she's my favourite character in the reboots, so – why the hell not? It's a fanfiction after all. Oh, and usually, she doesn't do those talks with the people passing the tests. Nope, she only talks to the exceptional ones, the ones who made at least above 80% on both the written and the oral examination. That is something, however, that Darcy doesn't know. I just felt like you should.

* Yes, that is Luke's Diner from Gilmore Girls. It looks a hell of a lot like the Diner in Thor. And yes, that is also Luke from Gilmore Girls. Somewhat. A fifty-year-old version of Luke. I used him in a one-shot of mine before, and I just thought him amusing. Especially if I picture Lauren Graham as Darcy's mother. And Darcy and Lorelei Gilmore would actually get along just fine.

* T'vana and her daughter T'vazia are made up. I tried to stick to what little I could find on Klingon naming customs, but they're purely based on my imagination. Her sister Arizhel, daughter of Tumek, of the hous K'Tal existed in Star Trek, though. Not by any name, but as a person. Her husband Gorkon, son of Toq, of the House of Makok, was the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council in 2293 and was one of the major powers pushing for peace between Klingons and the Federation, working together with our beloved Spock. He had indeed three sons, among them Kintazh, and a daughter with Arizhel. This daughter, Azetbur, took his position as a Chancellor, as all her brothers and her mother were already dead. Our dead Captain Kirk would, at a later point, save her life. T'vana's reasons for leaving behind her child and her lover were indeed that it was more important to support the Chancellor than to support her own halfling.

* Okay. A note on our dearest Dr. Erskine. In the MCU he was already pretty old when he came to SHIELD and created the serum. Of course that wouldn't have worked for this AU. So in this version Erskine was pretty young when he started the so called "Super Soldier Program". That is actually fairly obvious from the story, but I just wanted to make sure that everyone got it.

* Ah, Ages. Yes. That annoying bit. I just rolled with it for now. Here's how old everyone is in 2270: Nick Fury is 66, Phil Coulson is 49, Tony Stark is 43, Bruce Banner is 41, Clint Barton is 39, Maria Hill is 38, Pepper Potts is 36, Betty Ross is 35, Jane Foster is 30, Natasha Romanoff is 29, Darcy Lewis is 20. Okay? Okay.

* Jane never formally used the words "Wormhole" or even "Einstein-Rosen-Bridge" when talking with Darcy pre-Thor, as Darcy has no clue what either means when Jane and Erik start throwing those words around. I took that merely as that – as Darcy not knowing those words, not Darcy not having talked with Jane about it before. I worked my way around it, obviously. Also note – my knowledge of these things is based on a few books I perused in a library and some damn impressive documentations. My brain is less than impressive, though, so if I do screw up too much, hit me with a spoon.

* How long Jane has been in New Mexico, how long Darcy has been there, when Erik came around… it's all fuzzy. From what I understood Darcy was still pretty freshly around. But she was there before Erik. So that's what I did here, too. Darcy was around for three months when Erik came, and Erik arrived a week (more or less) before the plot of Thor happened.

* When Coulson refers to a promise he made to Tony before leaving for New Mexico? Yes, it's the iconic scene from Iron Man, where Coulson threatens to use his Taser on Tony and leave him drooling while he watches super nanny. That promise.

* I've had to take out pretty much any scene in which Darcy learns Klingon, which is a shame. I will probably post all the scenes I had to take out due to the sheer length of the chapter and post them on my tumblr. Or maybe I'll make a take-out-random-collection here on , if there's demand for it. These will include 1) Tony and Pepper meeting Jane and Darcy 2) Phil, Clint and Darcy's iPod 3) Darcy learning a few things about klingons 4) Darcy and Luke 5) Darcy and Thor. Really sorry that I had to take them out. But, as mentioned before, this chapter was getting just too damn long.

* There is take-out-scene in the movie where Darcy safes animals from the pet shop. Originally, she saves a little dog and names him Baker. In this version she's already saved Baker and now just needs to hand of the rabbit before she goes back to the action.

* " _Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam_ " means ' _today is a good day to die_ ' in Klingon. If I remember correctly – and I might not – it's a gesture between warriors to say that to each other before going into battle. A sign of acknowledging the other. So Rick is showing that he acknowledges how brave Darcy is. Just like the fandom does ;)

* I've made a poll after I posted Chapter 1 asking people on tumblr in what line of work they'd like to see Darcy. The options had been _Darcy as Jane's Assitant/Intern_ , _Darcy as a member of Star Fleet / Star Fleet Academy_ , _Darcy as a member of Star Fleet and Jane's Assitant/Intern_ , _Darcy as an Agent of SHIELD_ , _Darcy as an Agent of HYDRA_ , _Darcy working for Tony Stark_ and _Darcy working as a waitress_. The options of _Darcy being a member of Star Fleet/ Academy_ , _Darcy as a member of Star Fleet /Academy and as Jane's Assitant/Intern_ and _Darcy working for Tony Stark_ all got equal amount of votes by the time I started this chapter – as in, each of them got eight votes. I aim to please, this is what you'll get.

* I pretty much consider the fact that Darcy has some hacking-skills canon. The scene in Thor is ambiguous, the movie doesn't clearly say who created the false ID – it could have been Erik as well. However, there is a (canon) comic on what happened between Thor and The Avengers, in which Darcy pretty much hacks herself through some S.H.I.E.L.D. programms to find out what is going on in New York (see: Avengers Plotline). In case anyone cares, it is also this comic that pretty clearly states that Jane might be having money issues and is (paranoidly, maybe) turning away benefactors and sponsors because she doesn'ttrust them with her research. See? All canon.

* On that note, please feel warned: from here on I will stray from the MCU. I will certainly stray from Star Trek canon. I will mix it all up, and you can try to mentally prepare for the darkness that I warned you off in the title. This was the most cheerful chapter this story will probably have in a foreseeable while. I got green light from my beloved barnebucky that it's perfectly fine if this doesn't have a happy end or any romance. So. Yaye. Everything is open with this one. Or – ah, sorry, if there might be gritty itty angst all over this. (As if it isn't already.)

* For those of you who might want to feel warned: I have not actually seen Agents of Shield or Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I spend all the time between my term papers researching what happens in both, reading actual 'scripts' of it and what not, trying not to dramatically sob as I spoil the plot of them for myself. However, reading up on something can only survey so much. So please don't except it to be canon. Anything regarding the Agent of Shield or the HYDRA-Plotline is made up by me, with a vague template of what the internet gave me.

So. Thank you all for reading through all of this. Next chapter won't be up till September. It'll be another Interlude, bridging the time between this chapter and three months forward, in which Darcy passes the rest of the Intership and the six weeks of summer camp.


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not September, but hey, next chapter! We’re up to date, ladies and gentlemen! A little word of warning: The chapter starts out tame and gets tense quickly. Character death ahead (And this time it's for real). There’s familiar plot laying ahead of you, but twisted around a lot. Either way. Enjoy!

* * *

 

[With our backs to the wall, the darkness will fall

We never quite thought we could lose it all

Ready, aim, fire, ready, aim, fire

An empire's fall in just one day]

Ready, Aim, Fire! – Imagine Dragons

 

* * *

 

_2271, San Francisco, Star Fleet Academy_

  

Darcy stares at her image in the mirror of her dorm room. Dark-red turtleneck-sweater that is as tight as a second skin and the red, jacket of a cadet over it. The skirt coming with the jacket for the female cadets is not overly comfortable; Darcy isn’t usually a skirt-person. But she liked the knee-high black boots that come with it. They are certainly kick-ass-boots. 

And after six weeks of summer-camp, she has the distinct feeling that she will need to kick ass a lot in Star Fleet. Her fellow cadets are mostly competitive people, and a good 60% of the guys are assholes. Especially to her and her fellow female cadets. She wonders if Maria ever had to put up with that sort of behaviour. She will ask her when Maria comes by to visit, after their official initiation next Thursday. 

That will be a big festive. Director Uhura will be holding a speech, and they will all get assigned mentors of the cadets in their final years that specialise in the same field. Darcy has, in the end, settled for diplomacy as her field, after her experience in New Mexico, meeting an alien-god-person and all that. It seems appropriate, just in case Thor’s Asgard will ever make official contact. She wants to be one of the people involved. For her and for Jane’s sake. Besides, she has learned that one of her talents is in wrangling the unexpected. That qualifies her for politics and diplomacy the most. 

Darcy pulls her hair up in a high ponytail, and can’t hold back a derisive snort as she stares at her image, full-gear cadet and all. She looks so official. Lucy, who shares her dorm room and is one of the few friends she made in the camp, has squealed delightedly when they had brought over the uniform. She had said that it made her feel so special, to put it on. Like she really is a member of Star Fleet now. Darcy waits for the enthusiasm, but it isn’t coming. And this is what she has undergone the six week of camp for? The right to wear this uniform. The right to have one bed in this dorm room. 

Darcy looks over her shoulder at Lucy’s empty bed. She had been out after only a couple of minutes again, as soon as she had put on the uniform. Like most of the people who had been in camp with her, she is probably celebrating in the lobby. Not many have made it. They are… what, sixty? Yeah, something like that. To have made it this far is surely worthy of celebrations. 

Darcy had to promise that she would join in later, having feigned a headache for the moment. She feels like she is betraying someone in not really being in a party-mood, though. Maybe she is … a bit late, for this. But still. She can’t tear her gaze from the image in the mirror and wonder if this is really what she wanted. Star Fleet. 

Had her plan to first go out and see the real world backfired? She’d understand if this would be her being nervous. But the apprehension she’s feeling doesn’t stem from uncertainty for the future, and an itch and curiosity for what is before her. On the contrary. She feels like she’s lost something in joining Star Fleet. Like she’s lost a chance to find her own way. 

Darcy stares at the imagine in her mirror, before she turns and walks over to her bag, rummaging in it, and pulling out the bag with her make-up. She grabs a deep-red lipstick, and turns back to the mirror to put it on. She tries out a smile, thinking of Ben and Jodie. Ben always says that she reminds him so much of her grandma. Darcy wonders if Grandma Peggy had had the same worries, at one point. Maybe she just needs to pull through. 

It is probably too late to realize this only now anyway. And she doesn’t really have any options left, does she? She can’t just drop out of the Academy again, with any Plan B. It’s not like she knows what she wants to do. And it is time she grows up and stops hunting for stars… or storms. She can do this. She can be like her grandma, she can pull through. Change the world. Help making it a good place. Hell, she shouldn’t even be daring to doubt this. 

With a deep sigh, Darcy walks over to her bag on her bed and begins unpacking the few belongings she brought along. She’s pulling out the pictures first. One of her mum and Uncle Phil with her, as a child. One of Maria and Aminah, taken on one of their camping trips. One of Ben and Jodie, with teenage-Darcy between them. One of her mother and her father on their wedding day. One of her and Jane, pulling faces, taken the day before Darcy left Puente Antiguo. 

Just as she reaches into the bag to pull out the last one of her Grandma Peggy with her mother, when her mum had just been a child, her mobile starts ringing. Darcy picks up the call without really looking, putting on the speaker, and her eyes on the picture. “Gorgeous cadet at your service, what can I do you for?” 

There’s a pause at the other line, and then a deep sigh. “Really, Darcy?” 

Darcy lifts her head at the familiar but unexpected voice, only now looking at the picture of the caller-ID on her mobile. She lifts the mobile up, ending speaker. “Jane! Hey, how are you doing! Back at Culver already?” The smile that she had hoped to see with the uniform bubbles up in her now. 

“Yes, for three weeks already, actually. Which you would have known if you’d have called, as you claimed you would. I take it that Star Fleet keeps you busy,” Jane replies tensely. As she will always be, when matters of Star Fleet are related. Which is exactly why Darcy hasn’t called. 

“Yes, you can say that. I just settled in my dorm room. It’s smaller than my room in Puente Antiguo, and I have to share it. Are you back in your place or did you have to get a new one? Are they treating you good at Culver?” The unspoken question of ‘Are they treating you like you deserve this time round?’ hanging in the air between them. 

Jane hesitates before she speaks up. “It’s okay. They are interested in what transpired in New Mexico. And yes, I moved back into my former apartment. “ 

There is certainly more left being unsaid, and Darcy knows that Jane is probably leaving out the ugly part. It makes her angry and frustrated. Before she can ask if anyone of those damned university dons has actually started to appreciate her work Jane speaks on again, her voice much firmer and a bit impatient. 

“Listen, I’m… in New York, for this weekend. There’s a conference that I was invited to, to present my recent findings. I can bring a plus one, and I’d really like it to be someone who actually believes me. Believed me… _before_.” 

She certainly knows what Jane means, and what the before is. And the bitterness in Jane’s voice only adds to her frustration. But venturing it now wouldn’t help. Especially not if Jane has a conference to prove herself ahead of her. So she makes sure to sound as gleeful as she can. “Are you asking me to come? Because… sure! Sure, I’d love to come to a conference. There’s free food and drinks, right?” 

Jane’s voice is filled with the clearly audible urge to throw something at Darcy. “Yes, there’s free food. Just…. Behave, okay? You can’t get drunk on a conference. … Why did I even ask you? I will regret this.” 

There’s the Jane she loves. Darcy sits down on her bed now, putting Grandma’s picture back in the bag. New York. She’s only been there once. Cool. Still, she has one thing to ask, before she’ll call Maria and ask her to pull some strings and get Darcy on a plane today. “Too late, invited is invited. Just curious, but why _did_ you ask me? I know I’m awesome company, but what about Eric? Wouldn’t he be more helpful?” 

The bitterness from before returns to Jane’s voice, though she speaks much lower, and Darcy almost raises the volume of her mobile just to get what she says. “Eric chose to work for SHIELD after I turned them down. With _my_ research, that they _stole_. I don’t even know where they took him, but he would be the last person I’d want to see on that conference right now.” 

Darcy is glad that she’s already sitting. Because this is a punch to her face. She’s never been Eric’s biggest fan, but she knew what he meant for Jane. “Damn him,” she curses, and then a string of much worse words follows. Jane doesn’t respond to anything, until Darcy has a grip on herself again. “Well, good riddance. He was breaking your mojo anyway. So, in what hotel are you staying? Put the champagne on ice, I’m packing my things right now.” 

“… we’re not getting drunk, Darcy!” 

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, New York, Stark Tower_

 

The shuttle that lands on top of Stark Tower is one of the most recent Vulcan designs, Pepper can’t help but admire. She has never been interested in cars, shuttles or space ships, but even she has to admit that the design is quite stunning. It’s light and white, and looks like it glides through the air with effortless elegance. 

A door appears on the smooth surface that she hasn’t even noticed before and slides up. Stairs appear where none were to be seen before, and the woman next to Pepper makes a step forward, to greet the person who comes out, wrapped in a dark cloak. 

Pepper stays where she is, quietly observing the wordless communication between Nyota and the man she knows to be Commander Spock, as he leaves the shuttle. He is very tall, with the clear cut hair and pointed ears that are probably the most distinctly Vulcan features one could imagine, and his face seems to be devoid of any expression – except, maybe, a slightly raised pointed eyebrow. Pepper can’t even say why she feels that the space between Nyota and the Commander is so filled with tension when they stand in front of each other with respectful distance. Nyota looks just as calm and collected as the Vulcan, so it can’t be that. 

Before she can put her finger on it, though, both turn towards Pepper, walking over to her in long strides. Nyota extends one arm, motioning at her. “Spock, this is Virginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and a long time friend of mine.” 

Pepper knows better than to extend her hands towards the Vulcan, remembering what Tony had told her once of when he met a Vulcan. Not too keen on skin ship. So instead she smiles, nodding her head. “Commander Spock, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Uhura has told me a lot about you.” 

Spock returns the nod. “Likewise, Miss Potts.” 

Motioning for the two of them to follow her inside, Pepper leaves the landing platform. The glass doors slide open for her immediately, and she gestures towards the creamy-white couch and heads towards the mini-bar herself. “Can I offer you anything to drink, Commander? Uhura?” 

Uhura sits down at the couch next to Spock, crossing her legs. Pepper does note that she sits unusually close to the Vulcan, just close enough to avoid direct contact, but she doesn’t comment on it. She wonders, though, what the state of affairs between the two of them is. She had never asked Nyota directly, but she might have to bring that subject up sometime in the future. “A martini would be lovely, Potts. Spock?” 

“Water, thank you.” 

Pepper puts her own whiskey next to the other two glasses on a tray, and brings them to the couch, placing it on the glass table. She sits down opposite to Spock and Nyota, sipping a bit from her whiskey, unsure who of them would now breach the subject that had brought them together. 

It’s Uhura, of course. She’s always been the one to keep a levelled head and put business first. “Thank you for coming to meet us here, Spock. I know that you want to go and meet Jim soon, so I think we should come to the point quickly.” Spock inclines his head wordlessly, an invitation for her to continue. “Five years ago, before you left earth, you told me that you worry for the future of Star Fleet. That there is a darkness looming inside that might devour it one day.” 

Pepper hasn’t heard those words before, but she is a bit surprised at how dramatic they sound. A darkness devouring Star Fleet. Thinking back on the events of the last couple of years, it is painfully appropriate. Her eyes glide over to one of the bookshelves hanging on the wall. There’s a picture of a middle-aged Howard Stark, with a seven-year old Tony next him. And on the other side of Tony is Star Fleet Admiral Pike. Tony has smashed this picture in her first year of working for him in a drunk fit on the anniversary of his parent’s death. She wonders how much Howard Stark had known of that Darkness. Or the man standing next to him, for that matter. 

She turns her head again, as Uhura breaks the small moment of silence that has crept in between them. Her eyes are hard as steel, as is her voice. “I found it now,” she says, as she pulls out a small digital pad and hands it to him. Pepper knows what Spock is looking at, because she has been holding that same pad just ten months earlier, when Nyota had asked her to help her protect a scientist and her intern from SHIELD. What is on that pad has nothing to do with that scientist, but everything to do with the SHIELD that is protecting Star Fleet. The SHIELD that Howard Stark has helped create. 

Commander Spock takes a moment to look through the data in his hand, and no one speaks a word, or makes even the lowest of sounds until he looks up again. First, clearly measuring at her, and then at Nyota. “Fascinating. Did you talk with your uncle about any of this?” 

Nyota shakes her head in a clip movement. “No, I didn’t. I think he might be too close to it all to see clearly.” 

Spock nods, and Pepper imagined to have seen something akin to conflict on his expression. “What about Carol and Jim.” 

Taking back the pad from Spock, Uhura pushes it back in the pocket of her blazer, and then shakes her head with a wry smile, that shifts the tension a bit. “I’d rather we not involve them at this point. They have problems of their own,” and, upon Spock’s raised eyebrow, she explains further “Carol is pregnant. And due to deliver any day now.” 

Spock’s expression again remains neutral, and Pepper wonders if it’s just him or if all Vulcan’s are always _this_ neutral. Even if faced with such grave news as a danger to the organisation you are devoted to – or the pregnancy of a friend. 

“Jim failed to mention that in our last correspondence.” 

Nyota shrugs, and then leans forward to grab her martini. Her eyes keep trained on Spock as she speaks, and there is an underlying message in her eyes that is clearly only meant for him. “It is not a happy or a planed pregnancy. This is why it’d be best if you could be on your way to Jim soon, he could surely need a friend now.” 

Pepper sips on her whiskey, observing the two people in front of her. Years of understanding and friendship seem to effortlessly bridge the years that they haven’t seen each other. It is remarkable, in a way. She wonders if she and Tony have this kind of communication as well. She certainly hopes so. 

“Indeed. What is the plan?” And now, he finally looks at Pepper again. Pepper smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, New York, Grand Rivers Hotel_

 

New York is darn fascinating, Darcy thinks, standing on the balcony of the hotel while the people of the conference are doing their best to throw a party in the grand hall behind her. It certainly is a big party, what with people from different universities, Star Fleet officials, business people and benefactors present. But big doesn’t necessarily mean fun. In fact, those brilliant heads are quite boring. Jane being no exception, to be honest. 

What has made that party a bit more ‘exciting’, but not in a good way, is the fact that Star Fleet had sent over Francis, among others. Her Francis, the right Francis. The very Francis who had broken off their relationship one year ago, shortly after the incident in New Mexico. 

He’s come over to greet her earlier, asked her how things were going. She had seriously considered throwing her Martini at him, but what’s the use. She hasn’t been overly heartbroken or surprised back then. But still, it gave her all the right to flee here, on the balcony. 

Darcy fights down a yawn as she drinks in the lights of the city at night, with many higher buildings surrounding them, but also many rooftops of lower buildings on par. It is a nice sight, either way. Much nicer than the view from her dorm room back at the Academy. She’d really rather not go back tomorrow. Not that she’d ever say that out loud. 

“Darcy, you need to help me with that stupid pad. It’s locked again,” the door from the grand hall to the balcony is pushed open, accompanied by Jane’s exasperated complaint. Darcy looks over her shoulder. 

Jane comes towards her with a frown, eyes trained on the digital pad in one hand, and her shoes dangling from the other. Of course Jane wouldn’t last through one party on lady shoes. Poor Jane. What is more interesting is the guy following Jane. Whiskey glass in one hand, and the other shoved in his pocket, there is a broad grin splitting his weird goatee in half. Has Jane hooked up with some moneybag? He certainly isn’t a university don. Good for Jane! To be honest, Darcy really has been worried a bit that Jane was so loyally pining after some guy from space that she’s only know for… what, two days? 

Darcy turns around fully, holding out her hands. “Oh, shush, don’t talk like that about the poor baby, it can hear you. Gimme.” 

Jane hands over the pad, and then turns to face the goatee-guy again, letting Darcy do her thing. “So, you were saying that you were interested in funding me?” 

That did spark her curiosity. Darcy looks up briefly from her work with the pad – what the hell had Jane done to that thing? It really is locked, and beyond the normal I-entered-the-wrong-password-again-lock – at the guy. Moneybag and not a hook-up. But clearly a good guy if he is willing to fund Jane. Finally someone acknowledges her brilliancy. She will forgive him for his weird goatee for that. 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give you the card of my PA. Former PA. Now CEO. She’ll send a few quids your way, to keep you going an all. That is, if you can get your pad to work.” He has been looking at Darcy contemplative as he said that. Has he just issued a challenge, with that ironic tone? Oh, he is so on. 

Darcy looks down determinedly at the pad, smashing some things onto the screen, and whoops when it works and she overwrites some protocol. Which shouldn’t be on the pad, but Jane often accidentally fumbles with technology and brakes it, hence her duct-tape-innovations. With a broad grin she hands the pad back to Jane. “Oh, no biggie. Here you go. Treat that baby better, okay?” 

Jane waves her of and hands the pad on to the goatee-guy, who presses a few things himself before handing it back to her, with a new contact, added. “There, you’re all set. Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Foster. Miss Lewis.” And with that, he salutes to Darcy before turning back to the room. It is Jane who whoops now, as soon as the door closes behind him, engulfing Darcy in a tight, intoxicated hug. 

A hug which Tony Stark observes from the inside, a slow grin on his face. He presses one thumb to the implanted little button behind his right ear. “Jarvis, I think I found the girl who hacked Culver and planted ‘Donald’ for SHIELD.” 

“Is that so, Sir,” comes the reply from a golden needle on Tony’s suite. He grins, as he turns away from the balcony, leaving Dr. Foster and her assistant to celebrate his generosity. 

“Yep.” He thought it was the good Doctor, first, but that woman clearly has no grip on anything remotely technological. He wonders if she knows how skilled her friend really is. “Do you have anything on her intern at the time? Darcy Lewis?” 

Tony uses the moment it takes Jarvis to reply to manoeuvre himself out of the grand hall and into the lobby of he hotel, towards the bar, where Happy sits waiting for him. “Darcy Lewis is currently a cadet at Star Fleet Academy, San Francisco. Do you want to know more, Sir?” 

“Nah,” he empties his glass as he puts it on the counter, motioning for Happy to follow him to the garage. “Just send her a gift basket. Put in some nice Stark Tech, she earned that.” 

“Indeed. Anything specific?” 

“Oh, just make it something that will make the other cadets envious. She’s clearly wasting her talent with Star Fleet, maybe we can win her over with something shiny. Send a note to Pepper, and do a background check, okay?” 

“Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

_2271, San Francisco, Star Fleet Academy_

 

 Her first month of Academy Training was a living hell. No, not all of it, and not quite, but it wasn’t overly pleasing, mostly due to the physical training she had to endure. Still has, as a matter of fact, but by now she doesn’t get cramps for the rest of the week after one training session. Darcy has never been in a better shape than she is right now. Training Camp really had nothing on this. 

Aside from that, though, she finds that Academy isn’t all that bad. Two months are over now, and she feels like she has settled down a bit, come to terms with how it all goes. She doesn’t feel like she made a grave mistake most of the time anymore. It’s very laid back, just following a schedule of regular lessons and exams, with outdoor training every once in a while. 

One of her favourite subjects is “Diplomatics and Rhetorics I ” that Director Uhura gives herself. It’s a mixture of history on grand political acts and treaties, as well as selected politicians of the last centuries, and then pinpointing finer details of why certain acts worked and why some didn’t, and what value they have for current day political situations. 

Another subject that she finds mostly enjoyable, to her utter surprise, is direct training aboard a spaceship. They circle through different jobs and simulate stress situations. Only half of the class is on real spaceships, the other part being simulations and one last quarter in a regular classroom, where they learn shorthand and routines. The instructor, Commander Spock, is a bit of a tense guy, but Darcy finds him charming in an oddball-sort of way. Besides, he is the first Vulcan she ever met; there is none in her year. 

And one of the reasons why she might also like his class is the simple fact that she is in the top ten percent. Yeah, that certainly helped. And despite what she had thought, she just feels very comfortable on a Spaceship. And in the wharf as well. It has turned into one of her preferred hangout places. And it is where she is right now, having found a comfortable place next to the Enterprise on top of some container, feet dangling down from the sides, staring up at the ceiling. 

The spaceship-training-class is just over, and the others have probably already left for the next class. Astrophysics. Darcy finds it less than appealing because the instructor is a misogyny asshole, and half of what he tells them comes off as stroking his big ego. And, you know, she knows a few things that she picked up from working with Jane. So she knows when he is being an idiot, most of the time. 

Which she should learn not to always tell him, maybe. Today is the second time he’s just thrown her out of his classroom. Not that she minds. She can think of thousand better ways to spend her time. Like, lying here, staring at the ceiling, wondering what she’ll do with the holidays lying ahead of her. It’s the middle of November and they got a week of in honour of celebrating the end of the War of the Great Nuclear Winter. 

Darcy has yet to decide if she wants to go and visit Ben and Jodie, take up Lucy’s invitation to come home with her to Canada, or if she wants to visit Jane again, maybe. Jane had told her that she’s always welcome to visit her, and Jane has yet to take on a new intern, so she probably has absolutely nobody making sure that she doesn’t drown in work. And shower, every once in a while. 

“Miss Lewis. Aren’t you supposed to be in your class on Astrophysics now.” 

Darcy snaps her eyes open. Oh shit. She sits up, grabbing the edges of the container, grinning sheepishly over the edge down. Commander Spock stares up at her nonplussed, hands crossed behind his back. How had he known that it was her? Oh, wait. Probably because he had been informed about what happened. As far as she knew he was always the one to execute punishments. 

“Err… yeah, funny thing, that. I had a very animated discussion with Commander Langton about the possibility of creating Einstein-Rosen-Bridges. Again. And he was so impressed with me that he told me to take the rest of the lesson off. Again?” She can’t even keep a straight face as she says it. She cringes at how it all sounds, though. What is she, twelve? No, at twelve she never got kicked out of a class. 

“Come down here, Miss Lewis,” the Commander orders her in a very unimpressed voice. Darcy sighs, and pushes herself over the edge, two meters away from Commander Spock. She adjusts her glasses and tries a wry smile. Commander Spock turns, making a small gesture with his index and middle finger for her to follow him inside the Enterprise. 

She obediently follows him to one of the storage rooms, where he picks up a box and hands it to her, before taking another box. Darcy can see that the content is digital pads. She looks up at him questioningly. 

“You might as well make yourself useful while I have to remind you of your obligations to Star Fleet Academy and on the matter of respect,” he explains as he heads out the same ladder they used to get into the Enterprise. 

Darcy sighs. That again. “Yes, Sir.” 

He heads for the exit of the wharf, not bothering to check if she really did follow him. “Then consider yourself reminded. And also consider yourself reminded that I expect you to continue to voice your opinions regardless of any heated discussions in other classes.” 

He pushes open a door and holds it open for her. Darcy has almost stopped and forgotten to walk through it. Wait, has she heard that right? Was that hidden critique against his fellow instructors? Darcy hurries through the door. “Yes, sir!” 

The Commander holds out his free hand for her to hand him the box. “Very well. Then I herby execute a punishment on you for your behaviour. You are banned from the Academy two days earlier than your classmates. Have a nice holiday, Miss Lewis,” and with that he turns away, not waiting for her reaction. 

If he had, he would have seen Darcy striking a silent pose and then almost skipping down to her quarters. 

 

* * *

 

_2271, New Mexico, Unknown Location_

 

The red alarm is blasting from the speakers on a level that Clint feels it vibrating in his ribcage in his position in the ceiling. Every molecule in her body seems to be high on adrenaline. 

Not that he has reason or cause to be overly worried or exited yet. His body is just reacting to that sound that he’s heard so many times. But they don’t know what this alarm is about yet, though Coulson has ordered the evacuation of the base. As soon as Selvig noted the energy surge in the Tesseract, this piece of unknown technology from unknown worlds that they simply didn’t understand well enough to judge, Phil had been worried, despite what Selvig said about this not necessarily being a bad thing. Four hours they’ve tried to contain the damn thing. So far, nothing was working. 

“This is bad,” someone mutters on his right side. He looks up in time to see Commander Pax climbing down from a vent even higher up. He moves to make room for her to pass him by at her climb down. She stops at his side, crouching down, her eyes trained on a digital pad in her hands. “Neither NASA nor the Admirals will be pleased about this.” 

Clint looks at the readings of the Tesseract’s output himself. Yes. Even if nothing were to happen, the fact that the Tesseract had simply acted on its own would be cause for discussion. But that wouldn’t be his battle, and he was honestly glad for it. 

Commander Pax continues her climb with her data, and Barton trains his eyes on the damn blue thing again. He recognizes the echo of heavy leather boots coming from the other end of the hall before he hears Admiral Fury’s voice echo through the room. “Is there anything we know for certain yet, Doctor?” 

Barton can’t hear what Dr. Selvig replies beyond “The Tesseract is misbehaving,” though he honestly doesn’t need to. He has been on duty in this base on and off for two months now. He can see that what they have is off. It’s almost like the damn thing really is sentient. 

“Agent Barton, report,” is what he hears next, coming from Fury. He uses the easiest way down a rope, and can’t help but think that he should probably thank the damn Tesseract. However this ended, he would hopefully end up taken out of this base. Either because they’d put the project to halt or because there wouldn’t be a project anymore. He really didn’t particularly like underground bases. 

Fury isn’t too pleased with what he can give him when he reports on what has transpired in the last four hours, walking down the hall and towards the Tesseract. He concludes with “…if there was any tempering, it wasn’t on this end.” 

Of course, that isn’t what Fury wants to hear. And it certainly hints at the thought they all have had and that was the one they all wanted as an option the least. “On _this_ end?” 

Barton shrugs. Why is he the one who has to say it out loud? “The cube is a doorway to the other end of space right? Doors open to both sides.” That was why they asked for Selvig, after all. They had hoped that his time with Dr. Foster, who is working on _special doors_ , has been long enough for him to find out how to open this door. 

Before Fury can reply, though, the Tesseract acts up again, and the surge of energy that it pushes out leaves the whole building shaking for a moment. This time, it isn’t just a short spike, though. Barton fights down the urge to put distance between the thing and him, and remains next to Fury. This won’t be pretty.

 

* * *

 

  _2271, New Mexico, Unknown Location_

 

She is bleeding from her temple, and the pressure on her head leaves her to think that she might have a concussion. She feels like she could throw up here and now, but she has to get out of the wreck of a car first. It’s a miracle she is alive at all. If she doesn’t get out here soon, there might not be enough oxygen left later, if the rest of the tunnel collapses on her. She manages move her feet out of the damaged front of the car. 

“The Tesseract is with the hostile force. I have men down. Hill?” 

Thank god. Relief floods through Maria as she hears Fury’s voice over her communicator. So he made it out as well. She exhales deeply, as she presses the communicator on her chest piece, climbing of the wreck. “A lot of men still under, don’t know how many survivors.” 

She has to grab a part of the front window for support as her head starts to spin. She has no time for this right now, dammit. “Sound the general call. I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that brief case,” comes Furies reply. 

“Roger that,” she gives back, trying to make out something in the darkness around her. How has all this gone to hell so quickly? Just this morning she was on the phone with Darcy, planning to meet her and possibly Doctor Foster in New York tomorrow. How could all of this – not just this base, but the whole P.E.G.A.S.U.S. operation – crumbled to dust within minutes? How had those hostile forces found their way here, and what was going on? 

Fury continued. “Coulson, get back to base. This is a _LEVEL SEVEN_. As of right now, we are at  war.” Maria reaches up with the back of her hand to the bleeding wound on her temple, exhaling and inhaling again. Level Seven. A thread to world security of earth and possibly the whole of the Federation. 

Coulson’s reply sounds as muted as she feels, as if he had heard her thoughts. “What do we do?” 

There is a moment of silence, and Maria already worries that she lost contact, that more parts of the tunnel collapsed, before Fury speaks again, his voice having a new edge. “You get a chance to prove your Initiative, Phil. Head back to the headquarters and start up the USS Icarus of the Helios-class with Stark’s new Warp core. Gather your team; we’ll see if they’re worth what you say they are. Hill, you try to evacuate the rest of our men underground and then come straight to the Base. “

 

* * *

 

_2271, New York, Culver University_

 

Ouch. Darcy has rolled herself unto some pencil that is poking her in the back. She is trying to reach her phone, which is in the bag on the floor. Luckily for her, it's right next to the heavy metal table in the middle of the laboratory that had become the impromptu dance floor, and now impromptu lazing-about-spot for her, as the dancing scientists moved to a different laboratory. 

If she complained two months ago about boring scientist parties, she took that back now. Jane has taken her to a party in Culver tonight, to celebrate that she has early holidays, and this is a really nice party. Aside from the fact that she is growing a bit tired of all the dancing. Just having to stretch out her arm and fish for the ringing mobile in her bag is too much of a hassle, really. But still, it was the nice kind of tired to be. Yes, this was a nice evening. 

The only thing not so nice is the prospect of having to pick up Maria from the airport tomorrow with what would be the hangover of the year. “Darcy, pick up already,” comes Jane’s annoyed complaint over the sound of some old music. This party is Darcy’s turn to get drunk, since Jane got drunk in New York. And of course Jane is a spoilsport sober watchdog. Darcy sticks out her tongue towards Jane, who is trying to hold a conversation with some fellow astrophysicist. Clearly she is more bothered by Darcy’s cell phone than the music. Sure. That makes sense. 

Finally Darcy manages to grab the bag on the floor and fish her mobile out from it. She rolls on her back again, a bit confused, because the number is unfamiliar to her. “Person with the best ringtone in the whole building speaking, what can I do you for?” 

“Darcy Lewis?” Yeah, no, she doesn’t know the voice of that guy. Evidently. But unknown guy calling her can’t be too bad. She has been complaining all night that she could use a nice, new Francis. Maybe this was karma reaching out to her. She grins stupidly. 

“Yeah, usually I go by that name.” 

“I’m Commander Sitwell of Star Fleet. Commander Maria Hill has been wounded in combat and taken to the ‘Maria Stark Hospital’ in San Francisco. You are listed as one of her emergency contacts.” 

Darcy sits up straight a bit too quickly. The world around her is spinning, and she leans over the table for a moment, sure she’ll throw up. The moment it takes her to control her stomach is too long though, thousand thoughts fire through her brain. 

“What do you mean, she’s been wounded? Where is she? Can I come? Is it serious?” 

“She has a concussion and one of her ribs is broken. She is stable and will only be in the hospital temporarily. I am merely informing you of this as her other emergency contact is unavailable. We ask you to stay put, Miss Lewis, as you won’t be able to visit her. You don’t have a high enough clearance level for the hospital she is in.” The Sitwell-dude sounds so calm. Why is he so calm? How can he be calm about this? 

“The fuck are you talking about? Clearance level? Why would I need clearance level to visit my aunt?” 

“I will make sure that you will be contacted again if her situation changes. Thank you for your co-operation,” and with that, the Sitwell guy hangs up. Darcy feels like throwing up again, but she’s already way too sober for that. She looks up from the phone in her hand to Jane. 

“Jane? We need to go. I think I need to hack into a hospital.” 

 

* * *

 

_2271, San Francisco, Captain’s Quarters_

  

“Jim, what is going on,” comes Carol’s voice from the bathroom. The TV in the living room of their penthouse has been switched on and she can hear the loud sounds coming from it, screams and screeching. There is no reply, and Carol grits her teeth, as she reaches for the towel. Was he picking a fight with her again? He knew she hated it when he watched TV this loud. 

Only when she emerges from the bathtub, and wrapps the black towel around herself does she recognize one faint sound in the background of it all. Red Alarm. There is red alarm on the TV. Carol doesn’t bother wrapping her hair up as well as she leaves the bathroom and heads for the living room. Jim is only in his sweatpants, but he’s pulling the black undershirt of his uniform over his head as she enters, his eyes never leaving the projected screen floating the air above him. 

It’s not the TV. It’s a transmission from a shuttle. There are people in a city, and they’re on the ground, in some panic. Only one person, an old man is standing. Carol subconsciously puts one hand on her swollen belly as she feels a light kick, as if her little boy is responding to the leap her heart made. “What is this?” 

Now, finally, Jim looks over his shoulder and up at her. “Transmission from a small shuttle in Germany for all Captains. An unidentified enemy force has attacked a laboratory base of Star Fleet in New Mexico yesterday. And now that man seems to try and take the population of a whole city hostage. They have it under control, though; they’re sending a Special Division in as we speak.” 

He turns his head back to watch, shrugging out of his sweat pants and into the pants of his uniform, and Carol tries her best not to feel provoked by the curt reply. This was not the time to discuss their problems again. Their problems in the form of that small, golden band that she refuses to put on her finger. “If we were attacked yesterday, why are they only telling us now?” 

Jim gets up and walks over to the coat hanger, where the black jacket of his uniform hangs. “They informed us captains yesterday, and they’re not telling the rest until we know for certain what kind of situation we’re facing. I have to go to the headquarters; Admiral Fury called in a meeting.” 

Oh, so that was it. Clearly. She was among the _rest_ , so they wouldn’t tell her anything. Jim wouldn’t tell her anything, like he always did. Just because she is pregnant. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment, at his face. How could it be that this child is destroying anything they had? No, not the child. The pregnancy. Why is it only now coming to light that they seemingly want so many different things from life? Or, to be precise, that they want different things from each other. 

He avoids her gaze as he steps in his boots. She looks back at the transmission. Seemingly they have started to send in the Special Forces now, because there’s a man opposing the lunatic who is holding the people captive. But… what kind of … division wears those kind of suits? It looks like one of the old pilots’ suits from the war movies, except for that star and those… 

Carol frowns, and then she knows why the suit is so familiar. What the hell. Is she going mad now? Is this her subconscious trying to tell her that she fell asleep in the bathtub, in projecting childhood heroes into her dream? “Jim.” 

“Not now Carol. Look, we’ll talk when I get back, I promise, but I can’t tell you…” 

“No, Jim, shut up. Look at that and tell me you see Captain America standing there as well.” 

 

* * *

 

_2271, San Francisco_

 

When Jane comes down from the guestroom, Darcy is sitting in the kitchen. Her face is turned towards the big window, through which red light is flooding the room. Her gaze is distant, not at the other apartment buildings. She has her chin in one hand, and she wears the clothes she wore yesterday, on their flight from New York to here, to the Coopers place. She even wears her blue coat. 

Jane hesitates before she enters the room. She has always felt uncomfortable at other people’s places, and this is no exception. But the real reason for her discomfort is Darcy’s look. She doesn’t look like there are good news from the hospital, and Jane has never been particularly good at comforting other people. She takes a step back. 

“Good morning.” It’s a soft mumble from Darcy that breaks the silence. So she hasn’t been entirely lost in thought. She looks at Jane for a moment, who self-consciously brushes a lock of hair back and then enters the room fully, feeling incredibly stupid for her cowardice. Then Darcy looks back at outside, at the sunrise. 

“Where are your … Ben and Jodie?” Yet another thing. She didn’t known that Darcy has been raised by Foster parents until she met them. She feels guilty for not having known such an important thing about her intern. About… Darcy. A friend. It isn’t like she has many friends. Mostly… well. Mostly because she forgets, about them. 

Darcy shrugs, still not looking at Jane, who stands in front of the kitchen table that Darcy is sitting at a bit hesitantly. There’s breakfast on it. The table is set, and in such a careful manner that Jane can tell that it hasn’t been Darcy. “Walking the dog, I think.” 

“Ah,” Jane replies, nodding, as if that would make sense. As if the information was important. She hesitates, but it’s impossible to just leave the room and leave Darcy sitting here like that. If she did that now she shouldn’t have come along with Darcy to San Francisco in the first place. 

Well. Maybe she really shouldn’t have. What possessed her to do this? 

“They didn’t let me go to her. Security. Whatever. I sat four hours in the waiting area and they still didn’t let me. They said she’ll be out later today again. But I can’t see her then either.” 

Darcy is still not looking at Jane as she speaks up, but Jane sees her clenching and flexing her free hand on the table. Jane considers reaching out and patting Darcy’s hand. Before she can, however, Darcy pulls her hand from the table, crosses her arms over her chest, and turns her head away from the window, as if she needs to forcefully tear her gaze from the sun. 

She looks at Jane, and she looks just immensely tired. “She called me, you know. She called me, just to tell me that I shouldn't try to get through to her, because those were just the _rules_.” She lets her back fall against the back of the chair, huffing angrily. “You know what? I’ve had it with Star Fleet. I’ve had it with them and their stupid secrets and stuck-up regulations. Who wants them anyway. Aside from everyone that I consider family. Excluding you.” 

Jane shifts in her chair, uneasily. “I feel like I’ve corrupted you when you say it like that.” And she probably really has, if she thinks about it now. She shouldn’t have so carelessly lashed out against Star Fleet sometimes. But when her mind is busy with science, she sometimes forgets to care. 

“Yeah, you absolutely have. I was so pure and innocent and totally incapable of hacking before.” Darcy pauses, before she sighs deeply and reaches out for the can of coffee in the middle of the table, pouring some in her cup. “You know, I’ve tried hacking into Star Fleet or the hospital from a coffee-shop when they wouldn’t let me in. To find out what is going on with Aunt Maria. I didn’t get anywhere, though; the hospital is harder to hack than those freaking Men In Black were.” 

She grabs a bun and rips a piece of it, ignoring Jane’s displeased face at Darcy’s table manners. Not that she isn’t used to them, but one would think that at least at home… “What became of them anyway?” 

Jane raises one eyebrow. “Whom?” Sometimes Darcy’s thoughts are too fickle and too fast for her to follow. Which says something. Jane isn’t overly famous for having a coherent thought-process herself. But at least she tries to adhere to basic laws of conversation. Darcy… well. Darcy is Darcy. 

“Shield. You know. The Science Thieves. Did they contact you again after that thing in New Mexico?” Ah, yes, sure. Why not move on from the topic of the aunt in the hospital to that mysterious government agency that has pursued Jane’s research quite aggressively. Somehow Jane seriously doubts that it is healthy to talk about that right now. 

“No. No they haven’t. Not me, at least. Maybe Miss Potts, but if so, she hasn’t notified me. I’m glad for it.” Darcy nods, as if that makes sense to her. Maybe it does. Jane still wonders why Miss Potts got in touch with them via Darcy. The whole events of that supposed scientific fund that was feeding Jane’s research now is still a matter unspoken between them. Darcy hasn’t given her details, and Jane has carefully avoided asking for them. She doesn’t want to know if Darcy has dome something illegal to save her from SHIELD, to be frank. 

“Have you actually met her, aside from when you signed the contract?” Darcy pours herself some milk in her coffee, as she asks, and she sounds genuinely interested now. Jane is still unsure if it is wise to have this conversation now. Then again, she doesn’t actually know what else she could do. She can’t offer help in the matter of Star Fleet Regulations. 

“She is … nice, yes. And the funding has their benefits. Actually, now that you mention it, I think I might be very close to a breakthrough in the formula about …” Jane is getting passionate enough to overlook the fact that it is utterly disgusting what Darcy is doing with chunks of her bun in her cup right now. Not that Darcy is applying the same generosity. It is her, who makes a slightly disgusted face, as she groans now. Jane alters her words, with barely hidden annoyance. “…fine. In getting better to find traces of where the rainbow bridge might have materialised before. “ 

Darcy nods, but Jane actually doubts that Darcy really understands how much that means. Then again, of all the people who know what her research was about, Darcy is ironically the only one who probably really got it in any non-scientific way. That is a depressing thought. “Cool. So… not giving up on blonde and bulky?” 

Or … not getting it. Jane huffs. “…I’m not just doing this for him, you know.” 

At that, Darcy raises her eyebrows and gives her a look that clearly says ‘not buying it’. Why is she talking with Darcy about that at all? “Yeah. But if a hot piece of muscle that wants to tab your ass just so happens to pop by if your science in all caps works, you won’t be complaining.” 

“…Darcy.” 

“Hey, I’m not judging! I think that would boost anyone’s motivation!” Darcy is actually grinning at that. Jane looks at her, weary. At least she has managed to take her mind of bleaker matters. Couldn’t they just talk about something else? Why not talk about… well… there wasn’t much they were talking about, ever since Darcy’s internship ended. 

“If you’re living through me you really …” Jane starts, hoping to change the topic to Darcy’s own love life, but Darcy holds up a hand, turning her head a bit, looking confused. 

“Wait, sorry, do you hear that? What _is_ that?” 

It takes Jane a moment to hear what Darcy even means. It’s a feint melody. It takes her even longer to recognize it. “It sounds like… a phone.” 

Darcy blinks confused, and then her eyes flash. “Oops. Might have changed you ringtone at the party.” 

The look Jane shoots her is pure exasperation, as she darts off her chair and into the hallway. The sound is coming from the pocket of her coat. Jane pulls the mobile out, not even bothering to check if she recognizes the number, or if her phone knows who it is. “Hello?....Yes, this is her…. Yes….What? I mean, yes, certainly, I’d be interested….” 

Darcy leans over in her chair, so she can see Jane standing totally rigid in the hallway. The look on her face is one of surprise, and maybe confusion. Darcy tries to be absolutely quiet, so she doesn’t miss anything. 

“Oh-kay. Yes. Yes, thank you. …. That’s correct… Until tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit short notice?” 

At that, Jane turns her head, looks at Darcy. Darcy shoots her a questioning look; Jane pushes a few strands of hair from her face with a nervous frown. Then she nods, and looks away from Darcy again. “Ah, no, I see. … Yes, I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve read the details. Thank you…. Right.” 

As Jane pulls her phone from her ear she turns, looking at Darcy, who tilts her head. “So? Who calls this early?” 

Jane comes back into the room, and pulls out her chair, as if to sit down. Only she remains standing, one hand on the chair. Instead, she looks at the mobile still in her hand, and then looks up. “A job offer in London. I’ve been in touch with that company before. It’s urgent, they say, they think they found signatures similar to the rainbow bridge, and they want me to look at it. Me and one assistant. They’ll book the next flight as soon as I agree; I wouldn’t have to sign a contract and would get paid instantly. They want me to come to London immediately. Did I mention that it’s apparently urgent?” 

Darcy can see the excitement welling up in Jane, but she can also see the worry, and the guilt. How ridiculous is that? Jane should be running to her room and packing. Darcy leans back in her chair for a moment, and then she gets up. “Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry, agree and pack up. You have to do it; this could be the chance of your life. I’m sure Miss Potts can’t disagree, especially if there’s no contract to sign for now anyway. And tell them you’ll bring an assistant.” 

Jane was still standing where she was, and now she raised her eyebrows in a decidedly unbelieving manner. “I will?” 

“Yes. I’m not of use here anyway, and I’ve had it with Star Fleet. I’ll go with you. You can’t live without me anyway.” 

 

* * *

 

_2271, New York, Stark Tower_

 

The broad visuals of the intercom line are floating in the air above Pepper’s desk. She has asked JARVIS to open the intercom line for her as soon as Nyota was available. She is anxious for details that she is lacking. She should be, by all rights, furious with SHIELD for leaving her out of the loop after she was the one who has done most of the persuading with Tony in their favour. It has been a long while ago, and she isn’t sure if she regrets it, but she’s expected that they would not forget that. 

Uhura, though, has not been able to answer her tense question about what the hell is going on either. The other woman looks very displeased with this herself, her hair falling open over her shoulders, smooth, yet less carefully put together than usually. 

“I’m sorry; Virginia, but they’re not giving me all the details, either. What I know is that some of our best Agents have been compromised, among them the Special Agent known as “Hawkeye”, during the attack in New Mexico.” 

Pepper has her legs crossed under the table, tapping impatiently with the tip of her foot against the glass leg. “And they are attacking what, exactly?” 

At that Nyota leans back, shaking her head and opening her mouth, with an expression that clearly speaks of how unspeakable she thinks this is herself. She looks like she wants to throw her hands up in anger. A couple of years ago she might have, but there are rarely things that break through Nyota’s iron grip anymore these days. So instead she inhales, deeply, and the makes a vague and open gesture. 

“Apparently, something like a low-level space station that is usually in our orbit. To put it in layman’s terms. They call her the USS Icarus. Based on some old design of something that Stark Industries developed ages ago, the ‘Hellicarriers’.” 

Pepper opens a control panel on her desk and searches the system for the blueprints of these, but nods at Nyota to continue. 

“They are altered, of course, but it’s basically the same idea. A flying SHIELD around earth. After Khan’s attack on earth with our own ships SHIELD has revived these old plans, and they ought to be top secret, actually. Of course, if our special agents know about them…” A meaningful shrug follows. 

By now Pepper has a projection of the plans floating next to the intercom line, she shifts it with her hands, examines them. She thinks she remembers seeing Tony indeed working on something similar, though she wouldn’t swear on it. 

“Now these top secret floating Shields are under attack. By that Hawkeye. And Spock is on one of them?” 

Nyota nods. “Yes. He was called in by SHIELD as a counsellor this morning, before sunrise, to meet with the captured Asgardian. Presumable the attack is now to free this prisoner. I’ve lost contact to him an hour ago, and nobody else has answered my calls. I’m prepared to assume that the attack was successful.” 

With a flick of her hand the blue prints are vanished, and Pepper focuses on Uhura again. She can’t read from her expression how Nyota feels about this, but she hears the hard edge in her voice. Things aren’t looking good. 

Sometimes Pepper wishes her old life back. In moments like these she really wishes that all she had to do was sign some simple papers, or, hell, even make coffee for an asshole who thought nothing more of her than a pretty face. “Tony was called in as well, but a couple of hours after sunrise. The Agents that was here hinted that the Admiral was reconsidering the Initiative.” 

Nyota pushes herself of her chair, and starts pacing the room. The intercom line follows her smoothly, and the simple fact that she can’t remain sitting says a lot about their situation. “Well, Commander Coulson is his right hand and his second eye. So if Coulson hints that the Initiative might be installed now, most likely it already is.” 

Pepper rubs one hand over her face. She considers burying it in her palms whole, but now is not the time to be put off by how ironic life was sometimes. “Right. Does this change anything for us?” 

At that, Nyota stops her pacing. She crosses her arms over her chest to look at Pepper. And then she nods, curtly. “Spock thinks it will leave us with less time before they consider that Program again. We have to make our move.”

 

* * *

 

_2271, London, Unknown Location_

 

He was just a young boy when he saw the first cryostasis cell. It had been old technology, in comparison to the cells that fill this room, yet when he closes his eyes, Abraham Erskine can see them behind his eyelids and the impression they left on his young mind. All white, they had reminded him of cocoons. These black ones around him remind him more of sarcophagi. 

He walks along them until he reaches a certain one, which he has come to visit on an irregular basis, as if he needs to ascertain with his own eyes that Khan Noonien Singh still is still asleep and can’t crawl out from under his bed at night. 

In his childhood, his mother had often told him that Karma would always get him for every bad deed he did. Whenever he thinks of the events of his life, of the wars he has seen and has played uncomfortable roles in, he wonders at which point in his life he could have committed a crime so vile as to deserve these. 

When he thinks of his, young, vain self, so sure that he found the key for creation, the sole way to reach perfection for mankind, he wonders if the young man he had been would have forgone his research had he known what would come of it. The bitterest truth was that he knows himself well enough to think that the young man he had once been might not. 

When he created the first Super Soldier Serum for the Military, funded to create the perfect body, he stood proudly over the first line of production, and had had the impudence to call the man within it his. When that man had turned out a failure and gone mad, all blame dripped off him, though, and he had not felt remorse. Maybe, if at all, only shame. He had blamed his partner, Zola, and had lived on with a clear conscience. 

Only on his seventh try had he come upon Steve. Now, in hindsight, he wonders if the success wasn’t more based on the qualities that Steve brought than on his research. He had Steve pick a handful of men to follow him, and he had all turned them into his _Supersoldiers_ , as the military would have it. 

He, though, had envisioned something bigger. He had never intended to stop at creating soldiers. He had dreamed of elevating the whole human race. And he had continued. He had created his vilest creation, and had gone to what he had thought the purest of bases for an experiment: unborn children. Funded by the government of Central Asian Nations, he had created two hundred genetically altered foeti, and more than a half of them lived. 

_Augments_. That what he had called them. The perfect human, engineered to be perfected less in the profane muscle tissue, but especially in the mind. The ‘Super Soldier Serum II’ had been such a success. He had felt himself the father of all of them, and had vainly thought himself the father of all future generations of human kind. 

When he had held the child that would become one of the greatest tyrants of all, the child with the most promise, Khan Noonien Singh, he had been more than sure that one day all the world would bow to him, and would mark the year of the creation of Augments as their new year zero. 

Only years later, when Khan echoed those words after he had slaughter half the population of a whole continent, did he finally see, did he finally understand what he had done. Only then did he turn to the ten first Augments that he had created. The only ten left that were not vilified by the removal of their last shred of humanity. The only ones of his children that had not inherited his vanity, his selfishness, his impudence. 

When he had awoken them from their cryostasis cells without the allowance of the military, he had not dared to hope that they would be able to end The Great Eugenic Wars. He had just hoped that they could limit the shame he felt, could distract from the harm he had done. 

When the tides of the war had indeed turned, it had felt like he was finally, for the first time of his life, awaking from a nightmare. When he had put himself in the cryostasis cell he had hoped that he could outwait history, could wait to the days when his face would be faded from the history books, when his sins would be forgotten. 

But forgetting was a luxury that he does truly not deserve. Karma, as his mother always told him, has a way of finding you. And he has enough to atone for in this lifetime. More than one lifetime, honestly. 

It is, in a very fateful way, only just that his past has caught up to him twelve years ago, when he had been living as Joseph Reinstein, working for Stark Industries. And his past turned up in the darkest corner of his room one night, with an unfamiliar face and an unfamiliar name, just like he had thought he could disguise himself. John Harris had recognized him, though, and even now he woke up with nightmares, haunted by Harris and Khan alike, the old and the new. 

And even though he always comes here, to make sure that it was just a dream, just looking at the pale face in the cryostasis-cell feels nightmarish. He should have died so long ago. He feels ashamed for having wanted to live anyway. 

But he knows that shame wouldn’t help. He has to take up the burden of responsibility if he wants to atone. So he has. When Harris came to tell him that his family was missing, he has heard the intent in those soft words. When Harris told him that one of his ‘father’s’ old ‘friends’, one of his ‘colleagues’ might have found a better way yet to survive than become a pitiful old fool, he hadn’t known what was meant, but he knew that something vile had come back from the past to haunt him. 

Whatever Khan had intended when he had visited him, talking about his ‘family’, it had been like a slap in the face that finally brought him to conscience yet again. He had not hesitated to reach out to Star Fleet, and warn them of the dangers lying ahead. 

But until tonight he has not understood of whose friends Khan had been talking, whom he had meant. But it makes sense now, doesn’t it. His last nightmare had brought up a familiar face. And it makes sense. That Garrett person reminded him entirely too much of Zola. There couldn’t be coincidence in this. 

And those recent people in the labs. Those two young ones, who are talking so fast. And that Coulson. They never asked him on it, so he had remained silent, but his subconscious was still more alive than this old fool would have expected. And it fell into place. Those people that SHIELD was pursuing are enhanced. They are _augmented._ And they all bore the handwriting of Zola. Full control of body and mind. 

In some way Zola’s research, his legacy must have passed on. Maybe he’s had a student, who had taught his theory to others. Knowledge always had a way to survive its origin and its time. 

However burdening it was to have to bring up yet another vile part of his past, he should bring this to Nick’s attention. And sooner rather than later. 

With a deep sigh, he turns from the cryostasis cell of Khan. He is surprised to find that someone is standing behind him. When the man reaches out to him, Abraham turns his head halfway back towards Khan again. He knows, in this last breath he takes. He knows without fault that he is going to die now. A part of him is relieved. 

 

* * *

 

_2271, San Francisco, Hospital_

 There are many qualities required of an Admiral of Star Fleet, and many of them Nicholas possesses. However, patience has never been one of them, and he has made no secret of it. He cuts off Commander Hill’s protest before it even welled up. “You will stay here, whether you feel ‘fine’ or not, Hill. Agent Nejem will take your place for now. I don’t have time to discuss this with you.” 

He can see Hill’s nostril’s flare. The part of him that is without patience actually understands her frustration with the situation. It isn’t about what he understands, though. Hill has been more seriously hurt during the attack of Loki than she had let on. He had allowed her unto the Hellicarrier, and once more she had been hurt. He has lost too many people on his watch today. Hill will not be one of them. 

“Sir, with all due respect,….” 

He snapps at her, ignoring that Nejem is staring at him as if she wants to step between him and her lover. “If you respect my decision, Commander, you will shut up now. You will work from here and you will not complain about it. Phil was saved by that Augment’s blood, and we thought he was not altered. A fucking Asgardian has escaped with access to a technology that we have no data on. We have lost contact to our base in London. Don’t you fucking think that’s more important right now than your pride.” 

He almost can hear Hill grit her teeth. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” He all but spits out the word. Then he turned to Nejem, who has her hands folded behind her back. “We are not letting anyone know that Commander Coulson is alive. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“We will now move out to London. Recover, Hill.” 

At that he turns, not one more glance at Maria. He hears Nejem following him a moment later, walking at his side through the corridors of the hospital. People that see him coming towards them move out his way, and it’s better that way. This situation is bordering on spinning out of control, and they can’t afford that. 

“Sir, incoming call from Commander Nyota Uhura.” 

Fucking fine. Just what he needs now. He taps the communicator on his chest, from where the computer has spoken. “Put her through.” 

He all but throws open the door to the stairwells, making his climb towards the roof, where his jet is waiting. Nejem wisely doesn’t comment on the fact that he is stomping his feet. There’s a clicking sound coming from the communicator. “Uncle,” comes Nyota’s tense voice through. Oh, Uncle was he now. She only called him that when she was pissed off. 

“What. I’m busy. Make it quick.” 

“Lewis dropped out of the Academy two minutes ago, via her mobile, and she’s left the states. Where Lewis is is Foster, so what is going on.” 

Nick gritts his teeth. He should have known that his niece will keep an eye on that one. She seems to have taken a special interest in her ever since New Mexico. Of course nothing escaps her watch. Just like his sister. “I don’t have time for keeping track of every scientist under our watch.” 

Nyota sounds less angry than annoyed when she speaks up now. She is used to him and his ways, clearly, though they see less of each other with each passing year. He’s heard more of her when she was working on the treaty with the Klingons than ever since she’s Head of the Academy. “If you really think that I’m not noticing that you’re trying to evacuate people you’re insulting me. Why are you sending her to London?” 

For a moment Nick almost stopps. He slows his pace, at least. London? He looks at Nejem, but she shrugs. He has fucking send nobody to London. The safety plans that Coulson has drafted up for the Initiative entail Norway, not London. London is too close to be anyone’s safe location. First they loose contact to an entire base and now one of their assets is on her way there, without any authorisation of his? What the fuck is happening in London. 

Nyota doesn’t seem to read anything into his lack of reply. “What is SHIELD hiding from the world they swore to protect again?” She demands his reply with a hint of bitterness in her voice that he does recognize. Again, so like her mother. 

Nick pushes the door to the roof open, and the sounds from the engine of the waiting jet almost drown out his voice, as he screams a reply. “I don’t have tome for that now, Nyota. We’ll talk later.” Then he shuts the communicator off. 

 

* * *

 

_2271, London, Unknown Location_

 

He wakes up to darkness. It is not the all-consuming darkness of an ending. It is a darkness that comes with a rip of light. A light that illuminates a broad smile, on an unfamiliar face that his hovering over him, in his lying position. 

His eyes trail from the pale neck to the leather of the clothes the man wears, and he is sure that he is no on way associated with Star Fleet. Nor is he one of Khan’s very own paws.

This is not what he has expected. And he does not care for surprises. 

Khan sits up in the cryostasis cell, and the man makes a step back. He looks non-the-less pleased, and it has him wondering. He looks around. His family is with him, as he had planned it. And on the ground lies one of his pawns. 

Abraham has aged to become older and frailer still. His hair is short, and white, and the old fashioned glasses have fallen to the ground next to his face. There is no blood, but there is no doubt that Abraham is dead either. What a pity. He had held no deeper feelings for the man that had thought himself to be his father once, but he had, after all, been indebted to him. He would have given him the proud and merciful death at his hands, and not a dearth on the dirty floor. 

Khan looked up from Abraham, and looked around once more. One of his strings had been cut, it would seem. Then again, Wisdom was never long-lived. He had foreseen this. He was in the place he had expected to end, if Star Fleet was still too cowardly to end his life. He was just not with any of the people he had expected to be. 

The unfamiliar man is undoubtedly to blame for the death of his pawn. He tries to put him in any context, tries to pin if anything about that man makes sense in the context of the game he was playing. From his posture, and his clothing, and the expression on his face he could draw data. Data that his mind processed in the blink of an eye. This man was not a new pawn on the field. That man was a new player. 

Khan inhaled deeply once, as if, with this gesture alone, he accepted being back to life. And then he addressed the issue in the room. “Who are you.” 

The man moves, and it is a bock bow. Khan has seen many men to proud and self-assured bow this way to not recognize it for what it was. 

“My name is Loki. And I think we have _a lot_ in common, Khan Noonien Singh. Especially… our interest in the future of this world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Actually, this chapter was meant to be much longer, but I cut it short in favour of posting it now, before I’m of to Florence. I’m still miffed about having to cut it, though. Well. 24 for pages, at least. Next chapter is not planned before April, or maybe May. I just have too many open works right now, and RD takes especially long to write.
> 
> Now, the usual commentary: 
> 
> *I fully admit that I was annoyed that SHIELD asked Erik and not Jane to work for them on the Tesseract. Marvel screwed over a wonderful chance to finally give Jane the credit she deserved. But, sure, let’s give unnecessary screen-time to more guys while it was obviously her research they were working on.
> 
> *As you might have noticed some of the scenes include direct Dialogue from the Avengers. I’ll try to avoid that, but sometimes it’s … nice, I think. To anchor it all in this weird-canon-twist-thing.
> 
> *Oh, and yep, easter eggs! The thing Erskine was talking about was, indeed, Project Centipede and the young scientists mentioned are of course Fitz and Simmons. I was so tempted to write a scene with them, guys.
> 
> *Also sorry, on that note, for the bit of history-lesson from Erskine’s perspective again. I think we’re mostly through with that now. Next chapter bring some more bits of familiar plotlines, partially, but not fully. I’ve abducted it, somewhat. I will also finally bring in the plot device that I wanted to bring in from, like, first chapter. And that plot device might just change things up even more. Hell, I’m dying to write that right now. 
> 
> *Oh, and naturally, Khan is back in the game. As is Loki. I’m curious to see – what do you think will happen with the two of them? Collaboration? Archenemies? Mwahaha. 
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, while I’m throwing random facts at you: I will probably post a Remember Darkness playlist on my tumblr. I actually created it mostly for myself, because I need a certain intense darkness and dread in my ears to write anything at all for this story, but I promised notagatha to share. You’ll get a link.


	7. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t meant to be a whole chapter. It started out as an Interlude, but then the characters had more shit to say – like Khan, who really wasn’t much in this story yet - and Darcy and Jane just needed to do this and… yeah. So I took the meeting that was supposed to happen in the next chapter and pulled it forward. You guys have been patiently waiting way too long anyway. So. Have fun? I’m really excited what you’ll think of this.
> 
> PS: Oh, yeah, and that cursive part is… like one part, split up. And it’s cheesy and dramatic. I can’t help it.

 

* * *

 

_[Oh my god, please help me,_

_Neck deep in the river screamin' for relief_  
He says, it's mine to give, but it's yours to choose  
You're gonna sink or swim, you're gonna learn the truth]

_Bartholomew – The Silent Comedy_

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, London, Unknown Location_

 

_They stand outside, on the top of a building. They asses each other, standing quietly in the darkness of the night. They don’t move. In the old days a tension such as the one between them, would have been the sign of two warriors circling each other before a fight of life and death. So far neither of them had drawn their weapons._

_“This earth. You have once aimed to conquer it, have you not?” Khan does not reply. The other man continues. “The name of your kin still makes these mortals tremble.”_

_A pause, but this time it is clear, that no reply is expected. The man raises both his arms in an all-encompassing, grand gesture. He is obviously used to grand gestures. He is at ease putting on this show._

_“My name has once made this world tremble, too. In my name, many worlds have trembled. And those who tremble beg to be ruled. Do you aim to make this world tremble before you again? Do you aim to sit on the throne of this world, like you once aimed to? Is it still in your blood, this desire?”_

_Khan turns towards Loki, who mirrors his every move. He is fond of words, that man, self-proclaimed god as he is, but he is apparently also a man who knows how to yield a weapon. Khan is not done assessing him yet, but he knows that this man thinks that he makes the rules of this game. And from his gestures to his movements, it is clear that this is but a game to Loki._

_This time, Loki lets the silence stretch, until Khan attacks it. “You speak of ruling, like it is something that comes natural.” Khan’s words come slowly, just as guarded as his posture is. “I don’t know who you are, or who you were in your time of greatness in this universe, nor do I_ care _.” Now his words are dripping with disdain, and he makes not even a minimal effort to hide that. Instead, he soaks his words in it, relishes in the fact that the green eyes of that_ god _seem to narrow for a split second, provoked by Khan’s words._

_He moves one step to the left, and Loki one to the right. Like tigers, they stride. Power in their every move. But Khan’s movements dictate Loki’s. This man is not ready to engage him yet. His posture speaks of something that he guards. And Khan can read him. He has engaged in too many combats in his life not to._

_“But know this, Loki, of many trembling worlds. A throne is not to be sat upon, it is to be made.” They have switched their positions entirely now, and Khan pauses._

_A sneer formed on his formerly impassive face. His eyes flicker to the thing in Loki’s hands. “A sceptre is not to be held, it is to be forged.”_

_There’s a fine, almost unnoticeable twitch in Loki’s hand._

_“And you can not rule a world that you have not created. Wage war, and conquer, and your empire will be formed by blood.” Khan tilts his head, just slightly, and shifts out of the posture of the warrior. Loki still looks ready to pounce, but he is a tiger without claws. Whoever this man thinks he is, he is not what he claims to be. He is no ruler, and no true warrior. He is no thread to Khan. Pathetic._

_“So if you ask me if I want to rule, you ask the wrong questions.”_

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, New York, USS Icarus_

 

Natalia Alianovna Romanova had fought many battles in her lifetime. She has also fought on many different sides over the decades. She wondered, as she watched Clint climb go through the equipment available on the _Icarus_ for them, what sides Natasha Romanoff would be fighting for from here on.

 

Clint had rightfully asked why she was joining in. He had a personal vendetta against Loki now, but as he said – she’s a spy, not a soldier. She’s an assassin. She works from the shadows. In joining the Initiative she’d become public. Very public. Something that should terrify her.

 

But she did remember Loki’s words as well. She lied and killed in the service of liars and killers. And that terrified her more than anything else. She needed this chance to know that what she did was good. Even if she would never trust a government, and even if she would never trust Starfleet, she trusted that Loki was an evil that needed to perish.

 

And, despite the fact that she had hinted otherwise before, she trusted Stark. She did not need to tell this to Clint, because he knew this already. But even if she might have doubted S.H.I.E.L.D., in a very basic sense Natasha knew that Stark would genuinely try his best.

 

She had been working for him as is PA as Natalie Rushmann, and she had evaluated him. She had seen him at worst, his mind, body and heart poisoned. She had seen his weaknesses and she had seen what he did to compensate them. In a very blunt way, Tony Stark was very bad at hiding himself. And maybe that’s also why she trusted him.

 

But the main reason was actually much simper: He was a man of many flaws. He was a man with weaknesses – most of which he was the one most aware of, intriguingly enough. He had never been blind to his own short comings. Maybe that was why he was so ready to invite others to see him as a failure. But there was something that she shared with Tony Stark: the eagerness for approval, to right their wrongs. The need to redeem yourself had always been something that Natasha related to, as bitter as the taste that thought left in her mouth was.

 

Maybe that was why she was not very surprised when her phone went off and she saw the name of Virginia Potts on the screen. She suspected that Stark would call for them sooner or later, and that he would be trying to make this Initiative work.

 

When Clint turned and gave her a questioning sign, never stopping to put together a collection of his best arrows, she signed to him who was calling, and to be quiet for a moment. Then she took the call. The visuals of Virginia Potts were broadcasted. It took only a second for Natasha to realise that Pepper was in the office of Stark Industries. She looked impeccably dressed. “Miss Potts. What can I do for you?”

 

“Where are you right now? Are you with Agent Barton?” Pepper gave her a small smile. Her expression was always almost unreadable. Something that had doubtlessly come in handy as the CEO of this company. Natasha listened for a sign in Peppers voice what this might be about. There was no panic, but she heard that Pepper was slightly rushed in her words. And she sounded tense – but she did most of the time. Her breathing did not suggest that she was struggling to keep control, though. She was agitated, but not in a way that needed to be alarming.

 

Natasha tilted her head slightly, and the phone as well, so Pepper could see Clint working in the background. “Yes. The USS Icarus has been brought to land moments ago, in the wharf. I expect that we will be heading out any moment. Has Stark not contacted you, yet?”

 

“No, he hasn’t, but this is not about Tony.” Pepper’s smile shifted into a serious expression. “I need to ask you both to the tower after this battle, and I would appreciate it if you could not talk to anyone else about this.”

 

Natasha felt that she went very still in this moment. Clint doubtlessly noticed, and came over as well, leaning over Natasha’s shoulder, to follow the conversation. “Oh?”

 

Pepper looked at something past the vid-screen, and taps a short rhythm on her desk, clearly thinking something through, before she spoke on. Natasha had made an effort to categorize Pepper’s tells in the time she was working for Stark. It had not been much of a secret that Miss Potts would be playing a role in whatever greater scheme SHIELD might have had in mind for him back them, and she had thought it prudent to analyze Pepper as well. Right now it was obvious to Natasha that Pepper was not comfortable with the conversation they were having, but that she was also very serious about it. There was the way she angled her arms, and even, more simply, the way she was dressed. Miss Potts preferred plain colours when she was in the office, but strong colours on her lips if something that she planned to do - or say – at that day was something that she felt she needed strength for. And that lipstick was obviously freshly applied.

 

“Tony knows that I am calling you. And we are reaching out to other people as we speak. I know that I ask a lot of you, and I wouldn’t impose if it wouldn’t be important. But I… _we_ feel that you should be able to make an informed decision about the future of this Initiative. We know something about the legacy of Tony’s father that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping from everyone.”

 

Natasha looked at Clint, for just a moment. But she knew that she didn’t need to hear more. She would listen to what they had to say. And then she would decide what she would do, with any information they had. Still, there was something she needed to know first. “Who is _we_?”

 

She could see that Pepper hesitated to speak further, but the two of them had been working closely for a while. And though Pepper is loyal to Tony, and understood the betrayal he felt when he found out that S.H.I.E.L.D. had planted a spy on him, she had read the evaluation of Tony that Natasha wrote. And Natasha knew that Pepper had read it, and saw it through a more neutral eye than Tony probably could. She did not see it as a slap to Tony, as he might have taken it. She saw the honesty, and she saw the careful wording. Natasha had never ruled out that Tony might one day be part of the Initiative. Natasha saw the potential. And there had been something of a mutual respect lingering between the two women since then.

 

“I am not sure just how safe it is to reveal all right now. There are more people than just me and Tony involved. The only name I can give you, for now, is Commander Nyota Uhura, Admiral Fury’s niece. I don’t expect you to simply trust me, I know that would be asked too much. But I can’t give you more than this, for now. You will meet them.”

 

Natasha nodded, thoughtfully. She had met the Admiral’s niece before. She would have never thought that she would go behind her Uncle’s back. Most people bound by close affection would be blindsided by it.

 

It is Clint who spoke up for both of them now. “Will you contact us or do you have a way for us to be in contact with you?”

 

Pepper smiled, and now Natasha could see the relief. “We will contact you. Thank you both. And take care.”

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, London, Unkown Location_

 

 

 

_That mortal man thought himself above him. Loki would have laughed, if it wasn’t so outrageous. Truly, he is augmented. Humanity had made a leap in the strife for perfection when they had created his kind. But he is, above anything, still a human mortal man. Even he is still centuries away from reaching an inch of the perfection that Asgard has achieved._

_Khan has lived longer than most humans, oh yes, Loki could acknowledge that. But even if he would have lived centuries – does he think he could dare to lecture a_ god _on the ways of the world? On the ways an empire was built?_

_Loki knows that ‘_ he’ _would like that. ‘_ He’ _would want this man as a play thing. ‘_ He’ _has himself always believed in artificial perfection of anything. This was why ‘_ he’ _had told Loki to awaken this Khan again. ‘_ He’ _wants to see him rule earth._

_And Loki? He could not have cared less. This bleating brute should keep at it, and lecture a god on how an empire was built. As if what Loki wants was to_ build _things._

_No. Loki is not here to built. Loki is here to_ ignite _this world. Midgard is but a message to Asgard. ‘Look at me, Odin of Asgard. I am coming for you.’ The sceptre has whispered promises of the burning Asgard, visions that keep him awake. They will be true._

_Loki smiles, a small smile. “You do not care to rule then. A shame. The mindless masses of Midgard will be in need of a ruler to lead them, when I am through with their world. What is it, then, that_ you _want?”_

_Khan looks at him, and then he turns, very slowly, so he stands sideways. He only breaks Loki’s gaze when he turns away from him fully, and, oh yes, Loki iss aware that the gesture has no other purpose than to insult him. He means to say that he does not take Loki for a threat. Fool. As if he would be tempted by such a pitiful insult. He was raised in Asgard, after all, and none have perfected the art of insult as much as their long-living, bored species._

_“You still ask the wrong questions. It is not what I_ want. _I was_ created _with one objective. I was kept alive for this purpose. And this is my fate.”_

_Then again, maybe this mortal is more alike Aesir than Loki saw at first. Talking of fate and purpose. All that ever mattered in Asgard. Loki would have laughed, if it isn’t so pitiful to hear one such as him utter such things. Like an ant speaking of flying. “And what would that be?”_

_“Is it not obvious?” Now Khan turns slightly, so he can look at Loki, over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming in the reflective light of the lights upon this roof. “War.”_

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, New York, Unknown Location_

 

Bruce had been staring at the newsfeed when the call came. The security guard that had found the naked Bruce in the rubble had kindly brought him over to his cell, and had poured him some tea while Bruce had changed into the clothes he had for him. And while Bruce was drinking, they both watched the news, and saw the destruction brought down in Manhattan. For a moment, Bruce considered fleeing. He had always aimed to stay away from scenes like these. If he brought _him_ , the guy might make it better, instead of worse.

 

But a part of him knew that it was too late for that now. He was in this already. He could --- _atone_. For the destruction. The damage he had done. He could get something good out of this. As Coulson had said. The Initiative could be a new way for earth to finally reach that peace that it wanted.

 

He was just about to ask the security guard for that motorbike he had seen outside, when the phone rang. He knew he had no time to hesitate, but his manners made him wait impatiently, while the guard picked up the phone. “Yeah?” A pause follows, and then the guy looked at Bruce, a bit spooked. He held out the almost antique seeming phone. “It’s for you, son.”

 

Bruce almost expected Tony to be on the line, when he picked up. But the voice that greeted him is that of a woman. “Doctor Banner?”

 

It’s the official tone of the voice, the articulation and simply… something, that told him. He swallowed, wetted his lip with the tip of his tongue. “You found me quickly. Fury really has his eyes everywhere. Do you plan on putting me in that cell now, that you never even told me was on the _Icarus_?”

 

The woman on the other end of the line huffed. “I am _not_ working for or together with my Uncle. My name is _Commander_ Nyota Uhura, Head of Higher Starr Fleet Education and-“

 

“Former Ambassador of Earth. Yes, I know you.” He would be lying if he said that the voice was familiar, but it should be, actually. “I was in the audience when you gave that speech on our need to work closer together with the Klingons and not be as afraid to approach different cultures and repeat old mistakes.” Bruce hesitated for a moment, his eyes going back to that silenced News Feed on the old TV screen. “I have no idea how you found me here, but can this wait? My… presence is needed, somewhere.”

 

“Oh, absolutely,” Nyota replied, and there was something smooth in her voice. Pleased. She was pleased. “There is something that you should know about S.H.I.E.L.D.. Admiral Fury has not been quite honest with you. I gave him the chance to talk to me, before I talk to you, but it appears that he won’t. But it can wait till after this fight. I just request that you come and see me after it, Dr. Banner.”

 

Bruce couldn’t help bringing one of his hands to his temples, and starting to rub slow circles. Even after this fight, there would be no peace for him. How could he have been so naïve as to follow Romanoff back to SHIELD. “Is this about those weapons that we found, on the USS Icarus?”

 

“No. No, it’s more than that. More… vile.”

 

Bruce laughed, but it was a humourless laugh. “I never expected Fury to be truthful to me, but now you say there is something ‘more vile’ he kept from us than weapons of mass destruction?”

 

There was a silence on the other end of the line that stretched a bit. Bruce wished that the security guard had a modern phone, with a video-feed, and not just an audio-feed. He liked seeing the face of people during a conversation. It was easier to tell if someone tried to lie to you if you saw them. And Bruce was tired of being lied to.

 

“As much as I despise some of the things he did, Admiral Fury might not know of this project himself. Or at least not in it’s entirety. And he doesn’t seem to want to know or see anymore. But I can’t spare him. He has to see this. The world has to see this, if it can’t be solved any other way. And I think that you, above many other people, should see it as well.”

 

“Why.”

 

“Because part of it is your research.”

 

His… research. He wants to say that everything was destroyed, back then, but he remembered. He remembered when Betty brought it to him. He remembered the fear that had haunted him back then – if Betty got her hand on it, others could have gotten their hand on it before it was destroyed as well. “The Serum.”

 

“Yes. Now, though, Dr. Banner, I am first and foremost glad to hear that the Initiative seems to stand. That is our best chance that there will be an ‘after this fight’ after all. Go and stop this crazy man. I will find a way to contact you again. Good Luck.”

 

And then the line was dead.

 

* * *

 

_2271, Unknown Location, London_

 

_“War,” the pathetic god echoes. He says it in a tone that makes it all too clear that he is not impressed. That he does not understand the implications of this word._

_Khan observes him coming closer, without moving an inch from his position. Slightly more than an arm length away Loki pauses again, an unamused smile on his face. “Not to disappoint you, but I am at war with Midgard already. You might have slept through most of that.” He has the audacity to wink at Khan._

_Again, Khan turns his head, and resumes looking over London. His enhanced sight allows him to see the people passing by below all too clearly. Heading for the park, for a stroll with their dog. If this is what that god calls waging war, Khan wonders if his species has ever had contact with the Klingons._

_When Khan doesn’t grace the god with an answer, he continues. “But if you desire war, I am sure you shall have it. The ultimate questions remains, however, on whose side you shall be.”_

_For a moment Khan wonders why the god does not sound tense now. He has woken him. He has spoken of similarities. If he knew anything about whom he had woken, surely he should be trembling at the thought of having made an enemy. It is displeasing not be feared. But it is yet another sign of oversight on this Loki’s behalf._

_“I have no quarrel with you, Loki of many trembling worlds. My business is with Star Fleet. Just stay out of my way and I will spare you.”_

_“I see,” Loki speaks, and his tone is light. And that is when he makes another step towards Khan. As Khan turns he sees the flash, and his reflexes make him move to avoid the staff in the hand of the god. But he has not noticed that there is another one of the god, who holds a similar sceptre. Khan has unknowingly moved into the line of this other Loki, and watches with a scowl as the tip of the sceptre touches the place above his heart._

_He sees small blue flashes of energy lick at his chest, and for a moment he imagines that he can feel a coldness lick at his skin. He looks up at the god and expects his vision to vanish. But instead, he sees the smile of Loki falter. And then he hears the god speak in a tongue that he does not know, and when Khan blinks, the god is gone. Both of him._

_Khan pulls up his shirt, and looks at the place above his heart that the staff has touched. There is nothing to be seen. Khan smiles, for the first time at this evening. So his magic has failed that god, and he went running with his tail between his legs. Pathetic._

_Khan lowers his shirt, and turns back to look over London. Now, this game shall truly begin._

 

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, New York_

There is a flash of light when the Portal is opened from Stark Tower in New York.

People everywhere are standing and staring up in awe and horror.

Loki himself is not watching in awe. For a moment, all Loki does is that he feels faint.

For one moment he doesn’t see visions, and he doesn’t hear his voice.

For just a moment Loki feels tired.

But the moment passes. And then Loki heads into battle.

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, London_

 

 

It took Darcy and Jane almost a whole day to find out what went on in Manhattan in their absence

 

The company had actually given them their own flat on facility grounds for their stay, which is super nice and better than any hotel. And they had some boy deliver breakfast for them, which was wonderful. But neither of them felt like breakfast. They had landed in London last night, and they actually got drunk on the jet. Mostly, Darcy had gotten drunk to drown the feeling of loneliness and sadness. Jane had kept her company with some drinks, but that’s that.

 

Then they had picked them up from their place with an SUV with darkened windows and brought them to a lab in the cellar of some other building. They were not allowed to bring their own tech stuff, which had miffed Darcy a lot, but the things she did for Jane, right?

 

At noon they were brought food. And that was when Darcy felt that something was off. Because when she told them that she wanted to go out to eat with Jane, show them some of the places she grew up in, they flat out refused. “Excuse you?” Darcy had asked disbelieving, but all she got was something along the lines of ‘for you protection’.

 

Jane was not very pleased, but she was happy with the data they had given her. So she had shrugged, and gone back to work. “We’ll figure this out later, Darcy, don’t make a fuss.”

 

But Darcy was hung-over, and there was still lingering anger from what had went down in Frisco. She was just in the right mood to feel like picking a fight. So it didn’t take her long to grab one of their tablets and break through their firewall, their proxy and their coding. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was up.

 

Jane was studying her notes, glancing up at Darcy every once in a while. Jane was a bit peeved that Darcy was risking this, and that it was disturbing her ‘sciene’. But Darcy knew that Jane knew that Darcy was right. She was just turn between ‘science’ and doing the right thing. Jane was so lucky that she had Darcy. She should ask for a raise, or something.

 

And that’s when she found Thor. “Holy shitballs,” was all she could choke out. It was all over the internet. The news interrupted were titled “ALIEN INVASION IN MANHATTEN: MYSTERIOUS PORTAL IN THE SKY.”

 

Darcy immediately pressed the button for projection of what was on her screen, and snatched whatever Jane was reading from her. “Hey, this…-“ Jane forced out, before Darcy pointed at the screen and tried her best to talk coherently “Look! Thor! And Aliens!”

 

Then she turned the volume up. The Reporter was speaking of a portal that had opened several hours ago over Stark Tower, and that an yet unknown Alien Race had been coming through. Star Fleet had had sent over a fleet already, to attack some of the flying hostile forces, but had been at an impasse when it had become all too clear that the dropping aliens were harming the citizens. But not to worry; it seemed that a major ground group had been championing the protection of Manhattan, lead by Iron Man and the recently reappeared Captain America. Then the images switched to some woman in a suit explaining that this group was called the Avengers Initiative.

 

Darcy hammered around on her tablet, starting up several more projections. Most of the footage was amateur-videos. Thor was only in few, yet the footage was slowed down enough that there was no doubt who that hammer-wielding, red-caped person was.

 

Darcy looked at Jane, whose eyes were glued to the screen. She reached out, tentatively, grabbing Jane’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

 

Jane shook her head, and opened her mouth, but her words seemed stuck, and all she could do was swallow.

 

She didn’t need to say anything, though. The feeling of betrayal was written all over her face. Thor was back on earth. Several hours. And he had not yet come for her. No one had contacted her. Not even SHIELD. Darcy gave Jane’s hand a careful squeeze. “Let’s go back to America?”

 

Jane seemed to hesitate. Darcy wasn’t sure if she was hesitative about leaving this place or seeing Thor. But there was more to her deepening frown, apparently. “They… kept us from this on purpose, didn’t they.”

 

Darcy blinked. She hadn’t really considered that the weird behaviour of these science people could be connected to the Alien Invasion; her brain had been occupied with processing the images and processing Jane’s reaction. But… it made sense, didn’t it? She started up the tablet again, and some of the files.

 

This time she wasn’t trying to reach for something outside of the system, though, she was trying to grab deeper into those protections she had broken through. It was much more difficult, but she had a vague feeling that she knew exactly what she was looking for. This system was built in a way that had something familiar to it. Yep, there it was. She opened the file as a projection. It was just a bunch of numbers floating, in the air for a moment, but when Darcy moved them, she entered the security level that she had been trying to break through earlier. And above the field for where she could enter her ID and a password was the emblem of SHIELD.

 

Darcy cursed, but Jane let out a hollow laugh. “Of course. And here I thought someone was actually interested in my research.”

 

Closing down the projections, it took Darcy a moment to understand why her guts seemed to clench together. She remembered Director Uhura, and how much she had done to keep them away from SHIELD. A part of her was … not scared. Not really. Whatever SHIELD even was, so far they had not hurt them. But Darcy knew better than to trust someone that Nyota fucking Uhuhra didn’t trust. So, yeah. It was safe to say she was … alarmed. “As much as I’d like to go out there and punch someone in the face… let’s not confront them. I don’t trust those jackasses.”

 

There was a sort of confusion on Jane’s face when she now nodded. “And the data they gave me is genuine, you know. I _am_ actually getting something here. This data is much more helpful and advanced than anything I could have gathered myself, or anything anyone else gave me so far.”

 

Darcy patted Jane’s arm. “Yes, that’s nice, but just so where on the same page … that doesn’t makes you want to stay, right?”

 

Jane didn’t dignify her with an answer. Just an ugly look.

 

“Right. So now that that’s settled… we should be out of here before they know that we know. I wouldn’t put it past them to have some cameras in here, though they’re obviously not monitoring us all the time, or I couldn’t have hacked them. But still. We’d better move fast.”

 

“Agreed,” Jane said, growing obviously more frustrated by the second, “but what then? Even if we make it out of this building and the whole grounds of this… agency, without being seen or stopped. Where do we go from here?”

 

Darcy’s shrug was a nonchalant one. Jane apparently forgot that Darcy grew up in London. “I think Aunt Maria and Aminah have a place in London that I’m sure we could stay in until this is sorted out. Or, you know, we’d just fake being homeless sleep in a parking lot, or something. Somewhere where they won’t come looking.”

 

Then, as if that gave her and idea, Darcy reached for that pad again and started typing away furiously. Even if they weren’t permanently watching them, if their system was worth its money, it would probably run some security protocols on a regular basis, that would inform them when something was amiss. She needed to cover every step she did to break through their system, so they wouldn’t be able to trace it back to her for several hours.

 

That’s when the door to their lab was pushed open. Both Jane and Darcy looked up, at the men in the suit who came in, with a smile. Darcy saluted him, forcing a grin on her face. “Yo, Mr. Sitwell. What’s up?”

 

The man smiled, and for a moment Darcy tried really hard to see if it was genuine or not. “I just wanted to make sure that the two of you have everything you need. I am truly sorry that we had to ask you to eat here. It is a matter of security for the both of you, and this important research, as I am sure you will understand.”

 

Jane nodded, though Jane didn’t bother to fake a smile. “It’s fine. My assistant just had a long night, and was getting worked up over nothing. It’s … simpler, with the food being brought to us anyway.”

 

Mr. Sitwell nodded, the smile never leaving his face. “I am glad to hear that. Do not hesitate to ask for me, if there is any way I can make this more pleasant for you.”

 

Darcy watched him like a hawk, when he turned and left again. Only when the door fell shut again did she turn to Jane. “Okay. I have an idea. We have two options. Try to get ourselves out of this, which might include some stupid spy-move air-vent hijinx. I’m not sure yet, but I’m getting my hands on the buildings blueprints as we’re speaking, maybe instead of air-vents it’ll be the sewers. _Ooor_ we’ll try and contact someone…” she slightly waves the tablet, “preferably someone with influence, to save us and we’ll stay put meanwhile, keeping our fingers crossed that they won’t notice my hacking the system in the meantime. What do you want to do?”

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, New York, Stark Tower_

 

 

“Oh man,” Tony said, for at least the fifth time in a row. He, Rhodey, Bruce and Pepper were standing in the Tony’s apartment, watching on a screen the lobby of Star Tower. Watching as the thermosetting plastic was poured into the (slightly cleaned up) Loki-sized hole.

 

Pepper was still not very pleased with it, but she had done what she could so it’d look less like the remains of a fight, but more like… well, an example of Tony’s sometimes very eccentric taste. And it was, in a way. Only it involved a lot of gloating as well. And coping, hopefully. Her need for a happy-looking Tony was more important than her aesthetic desire and Tony was still struggling with the aftermath of that fight against the Chitauri. He spend more time each day locking himself into the lab, and the adjustment he made to the tower, or ordered to be made, all gave of the impression of growing paranoia. That’s why Pepper had practically begged Rhodey to see if he could make room in his stuffed schedule to drop by here regularly and help her keep an eye on Tony. That’s why she had so vehemently supported Tony’s idea of having Bruce move in with them. Pepper had a lot on her hands right now, and knowing that Tony wasn’t left to fend on his own while she was busy running the company and the _other_ business, was putting her mind at ease a lot.

 

Bruce had adapted to living with them pretty well, considering his tendency to run away when things got tight – and yes, Pepper knew, she had asked Nyota to discreetly inform her on what she knew on Doctor Bruce Banner. Partly, of course, so she could make this more comfortable for him, and partly so she knew what to prepare for. A man who turned into a monster might have his own demons, and if he helped her with Tony it was the least she could do to help him where she could. So seeing that Bruce was relatively at ease living with them was something that made Pepper glad.

 

And it was nice to see that he did often enough act as a voice of reason for Tony. Not exactly when science was concerned, not always, but with most other things he was very helpful. This, … new floor arrangement, though? What Bruce thought of this was a bit hard to tell. Over the last couple of month he had gone from laughing about the idea to being maybe a bit stunned, maybe pleased and now he looked just disbelieving. If he hadn’t expected Tony to really go through with that plan, he was in for a ride.

 

Rhodey didn’t even look very surprised anymore. In a way, he almost looked intrigued. Pepper couldn’t help but think that Rhodey had been exposed to Tony way too long. She wasn’t sure if those two brought out the best or the worst in each other, really. At least Rhodey had helped her persuade Tony not put in a permanent holographic projection beneath the plastic, which had a video-feed of the Hulk smashing Loki on a loop.

 

Tony though looked like a child on Christmas, wearing a giddy and face-splitting grin, as he pulled his sunglasses off, and gestured towards the scene. “Can you imagine? Next week on New Year’s Eve, we’ll be dancing on this.”

 

“You’ll be dancing with yourself. I won’t,” Pepper mumbled, finally tearing herself away from the screen, fixing her eyes back on the tablet. There were still some things to be done before the meeting in an hour, and watching Tony being ridiculous was not one of them.

 

And that was when Jarvis spoke up. “Mr. Stark, Admiral Furry is in an elevator on his way up.”

 

“What?” Tony whipped around immediately. “No. Don’t let the Cyclopes in here. Stop the elevator. In fact, let’s –“

 

Pepper’s voice cut over Tony’s. “Let him come up, Pepper Override Code ‘B’-‘Zeta’-‘Three’.” She looked pointedly at Tony, who was already opening his mouth in an exclamation of protest, and betrayal and drama. “I am _sure_ Tony wouldn’t want to alienate Admiral Fury today, and cause a scene that keeps the Admiral here longer than necessary, _would he_.”

 

For a moment Tony tried to hold her stare, but when he looked to Bruce and Rhodey for help, not even Bruce (who had all the reasons in the world to not to want to see Fury) seemed to support him. So he threw up his hands in an exaggerated gesture. “Fine. _Fine_.”

 

Only a couple of seconds later the door opened and the Admiral waltzed in. “Mr. Stark. I think you have a problem with your elevators. Mine paused for a second there.”

 

Tony shrugged. “Well. Not even my elevator likes you. How surprising.”

 

Fury did not look impressed. It was also very obvious that he had a pretty good idea why his elevator stopped. He nodded briefly at Pepper, Bruce and Rhodey, before he looked back to Tony and made a couple of steps towards him, obviously trying to stare him down. “You hacked into my files again.”

 

Two could play that game, though. Tony stared up at him, raising his chin. “And you didn’t tell me that Commander Coulson is alive.”

 

Oh, yes. Pepper had hoped Tony wouldn’t bring it up. They had been looking for different information in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files when they stumbled over this piece of information. Tony had been seething, and from the get-go he had insisted that if Fury ever asked for a reason why he hacked them, he would use this against them. Just… Pepper had hoped that she had been able to persuade him otherwise. Apparently not.

 

If Fury was surprised that Tony knew he didn’t show it. His facial expression was as unmoved as a mask, and only his eyes were flickering over Tony’s face. What he was looking for was beyond Pepper’s guessing. Whatever he saw, though, made him back down. Verbally, not physically. “Coulson’s work for S.H.I.E.L.D. required drastic measures and you have made it clear that you want to part in S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 

“Yeah, well. I don’t like being lied to. Especially when it’s about dead people.”

 

Pepper knew Tony well enough to know the way his jaw moved right now. The way he angled his body was to give the impression of a carefree attitude, when in fact, he was very tense. For most of his life to put on the attitude of “couldn’t care less” had worked for him, and almost everyone had overlooked that Tony actually did care. A lot. He did seem to have unlearned how to show that sometimes, though.

 

“I am not here to talk about your trust issues. We have a situation.”

 

Pepper and Rhodey exchanged a glance. Admiral Fury certainly had a bad timing. A glance at her watch told Pepper that most of the people they had called in for the meeting would be around in less than an hour.

 

“What kind of situation? Other dead people coming back to live? Is Loki back?”

 

For a moment Pepper actually thought she saw a crack running through Fury’s face, from a slight twitch in his eyebrows down to his jaw, and the tightening of his lips. Then Fury rolled his visible eye. Pepper would never understand why he had taken out his artificial eye after he had officially resigned from field work. The day he had been promoted to Admiral he had taken up wearing an eye patch. “No. Our base in London was breached about the same time the events in Manhattan went down. About a third of the people who worked there are missing. The servers have crashed, the data is gone. We need you to look into that.”

 

Now Tony did look in Pepper’s direction. Fury followed his look. Pepper sighed, and then she nodded. “I assume this means that you will be missing yet another meeting. The board members won’t be pleased.”

 

Tony gave her a lopsided smile. “Aww, such a shame, isn’t it. Tell them I miss them.” He came over to her, and Pepper already turned her head, so he could press a scratchy kiss to her cheek. When he leaned over and whispered something in her ear, she made it a point of laughing softly, as if it was a sweet nothingness. Jarvis could filter out Tony’s words anyway.

 

Then she patted Tony’s cheek, and nodded to Fury. “Then off with you. I have to prepare for a meeting.” Again, Fury nodded towards her, before he turned on his heels and returned to the elevator. Pepper stood and watched as Tony got in as well, and the doors closed. Then she turned to Rhodey and Bruce. “Well then. Let’s get to work, boys.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, London_

 

One hour. It had taken them one hour to figure out the code for the blue prints, and then find a way to get out of the second underground level. Something about those blue prints was off, because there had been a lot of re-modelling to the building in the last decade, and a lot of the codes Darcy hadn’t been able to decode. There were entire levels even deeper in the ground than Darcy and Jane were that were entirely black on the blue prints, which spooked her a bit. S.H.I.E.L.D. could be creepy, apparently, and Darcy had silently thanked her Director for getting her and Jane out of this before they had gotten in.

 

And now they had gotten out of it on their own. It seemed like a minor miracle, and Darcy was pretty sure that it had only worked because nobody had really deemed them important in this thing.

 

There were only three levels that hadn’t been reworked in the last decade, which were the ground level, and the two first underground levels. Both of them included some outdates safety-stairs for emergency situations. Or something like that, Darcy presumed. Though the additional hidden safety-rooms were a bit weird, because Darcy was sure that in one of the blue print files it had said ‘armoury’, or something along those lines. But, whatever. That was food for thought for later, when they were out of here.

 

Darcy had considered getting to those rooms through the air-vent passageways. She had been a Star Fleet Trainee, after all, and if they were on a Space Ship her first instinct would be to use the Jeffries Tube. But they weren’t, and the closest thing to a Jeffries Tube that normal buildings had were air-vents. And, besides, that’s what people did in movies, and Darcy took pride in the fact that half of her knowledge came from the TV.

 

But, apparently, the people who made movies were lying liars who lied. First of all, the air-vent was way too small for a person to crawl through. Even a tiny person like Jane couldn’t get through. Second of all, they didn’t exactly look like they would even carry Jane. Darcy wouldn’t trust them, at least. Not to forget that Darcy had the feeling that those all-metal-walls would reflect sound pretty well – and pretty loudly. They were integrally different from Jeffries Tubes, it seemed, unlike what she had expected.

 

The debunking of that TV tope had had Darcy moping for at least five minutes, before she had started to look for something else to move around the building unseen. There was nothing, though. So that left them with… the door. As dumb as that seemed. And that was where the ‘not important’ part had come in handy. Darcy may have dropped out of Star Fleet Academy, but she had been a trainee there for long enough to have picked up some skills. One of them included basic self defence, if your phasers ever were taken from you. And there was only one man guarding their room. Darcy was pretty sure that by taking him unaware she could take him out, even though Jane hadn’t really liked the idea.

 

But there was still the problem left of how to get into the emergency stairways. . Of course, it was locked. And Darcy was sure that unlocking it with the security ID that their guard carried around it would set off an alarm somewhere. But it was still probably safer than trying to hack into the system and unlock the door that way. Darcy was good, but she wasn’t sure if she could do that without alarming someone, too. Upon voicing her concerns to Jane, Jane mentioned that their ‘guard’ seemed to carry a weapon. “What about using that? Couldn’t we simply shoot the mechanism and then force the door open?”

 

Darcy blinked. Precious tiny Jane, who duct-taped her inventions and was for shooting doors open. “Huh. Uh. Hm. That sounds awfully like something I would have seen on TV, you know, and after that air-vent let-down I’m not sure I wanna trust that kind of stuff. Worst come to worst the door has a total shut down if it’s mechanism is damaged.”

 

For a moment Darcy had been damn worried that this was the end to their escape plan when Jane had suddenly snapped her fingers. “And what if we don’t make the door shut down but the whole building? Could we force black out?”

 

Her first instinct was to snort, but than she remember having seen something on the way through their system, looking for the blue prints. “Well, we can’t make them black-out, but we can make their system reset to a false state. Wait a sec.”

 

She had pulled the file open on the 3d-projection. “See, that’s their servers. Once a month they load a back-up of their system, and this one gets reset, as to make sure that there were no alterations. It usually happens at around 2am, and this one isn’t due till next week, on new years eve, but making the building believe that it actually was new years eve and 2am should be easier than to force her way into the security. This is just overriding a handful of files and letting the system do what it does anyway. We only need to change those back-ups that work while the system is reset. And the minor alteration of that door being open will be overridden, so that no alarm should go through.”

 

That had taken Darcy another half an hour to do, though, as easy as it sounded. A system like this had many places where it drew its information from, and Darcy had to make sure that all of them provided the wrong date when the system tried to confirm it. And even their their time span was really short. It took less than a minute for the system to reset, which meant they only had a few flickering seconds to open that door, and run up those staircases and get out of the door up there.

 

After talking their plan through a couple of times, they had set it in motion. Jane had simply opened the door and asked the guard-guy to help her carry a heavy-weighting machine from the one end of the room to the other machine. He hadn’t asked much, and simply come in to help.

 

When he had leaned over to reach for the thing, Darcy had moved quickly. Rendering someone unconscious was merely a matter of hitting their head hard enough for the brain to preventively shut down the whole system, so to speak. So when he had leaned over, she had grabbed his collar and used her elbow to slam his head against the machine, trying to angle it that way that he it it with his temples, the most sensitive area of his skill except his jaw line. He had gone limp pretty much immediately, and Darcy had proudly beamed at Jane.

 

Jane had not exactly reacted with whooping pride, or anything. “That wasn’t exactly… martial arts.”

 

Darcy shrugged. “I’ve always favoured a blunt approach. If brute force can get you there, don’t waist your time on finesse, I figured.”

 

For a second, Jane seemed to want to say something about that philosophy, but instead shrugged and leaned over, so she could clear the guys pockets, looking for something useful. There was a small phaser, and some keys for god knows what, and a security ID card. There was also a phone, but Darcy wasn’t entirely stupid. You could be tracked by a phone. So she simply left it, hoping that the guy would be knocked out long enough. Then Jane had taken the company pad and shut it off, hoping that they wouldn’t be able to turn it on again long distance and use _that_ to track them. The data was simply too precious to leave. And they still needed those blue prints.

 

Last but not least, Darcy took the guys name-tag – ignoring that the guys name was a guys name - and pinned it to Jane’s nice looking outfit. She also handed Jane her glasses, so Jane would look more official. Then she pulled on the dudes own suit jacket, and left behind hers. She also pulled down her knitted beanie, pulling loose a thread so she could tie her hair up in a ponytail.

 

She checked herself in the reflection on the surface of some picture on the wall. Lucky for her, her eyesight wasn’t that bad, so she could actually see herself. And, yep, it was obvious that the suit jacket was meant for a guy and not hers. But they didn’t look like themselves anymore, and they look at least slightly more official. Like worker bees for SHIELD. So Darcy rolled up the jacket’s sleeves and pocketed the weapon. One last nod to Jane. Ready, steady – go.

 

The hallways were clear, probably because it was kind of late already, and the entrance to one of those emergency stairways was close by. This had been the moment Darcy had set her protocol in motion, and made the system reset. And while it reset it loaded the back-up, with the altered instructions for the door. Both held their breath, until that small clicking-sound told them that the door was unlocked, and they rushed through.

 

Darcy would have liked to wait on the other side of the door to see if it was locked again, as it should, if her plan worked, but of course there was no way that they could. Even those ten seconds of waiting could make a difference if someone happened to want to check in on them now, and there was the matter of having to run six stair cases within a minute. So Jane grabbed Darcy’s hand and they ran like their life depended on it. Which it did. Actually. Scarily enough. Darcy really didn’t want to be locked in here for the rest of her life. Or till they discovered them gone. And then who knew what they would do to them. Jane they would keep alive, because Jane was brilliant, but her? She was expendable.

 

Jane would have slammed open the door of the ground level to get out, but before she could Darcy pulled her back, and made sure to open it slowly, and carefully, inhaling hectically through her nostrils in a desperate attempt to be quiet, goddamn. It might be late, but S.H.I.E.L.D. was creepy and had pretty much held them captive and people who did that usually had patrols and were up all night.

 

So she looked out carefully. There were in a hallway that leads to the lobby. She could hear that there were people close by, because she heard clattering and voices and frantic typing sounds, but there were no immediate voices, and no footsteps coming towards them. So now it was Darcy who pulled them out in the open and then pulled the door shut.

 

For a heartbeat her and Jane simply stood there, clutching each others hand, both respectively tying to be quiet and let the success of the moment wash over them with relief. And then Darcy straightened her clothes. They would not be fooling anyone if anyone chose to look closely, but most people didn’t. Hiding in a crowd was easy if you acted as if you belonged. And if anything, these clothes helped them pretend to belong.

 

Darcy disentangled her hand from Jane’s and looked down her pad, and advised Jane to hold the folders as if she was reading something while walking. And then – they walked. Down the hallway, and past the first person, who was – as Darcy checked with a glance – reading something on his phone, and not even looking up for a second there.

 

Then the door to the lobby opened for them, and yep, there were a bunch of people. Darcy only hoped that there weren’t a bunch of security people as well – because those got paid to look closely, after all.

 

But apparently some gods were on their side today. Whatever it was they made it … out. Out of the lobby and the building. Only to be standing on the facility grounds with some more people and cars, all in those suits and shit. And it was damn big and goddamn. It was so hard not to start running but maintain a steady pace.

 

But then they were off it, and Darcy didn’t wait a second to shrug out of the jacket and take her glasses back from Jane. “Should we take a taxi?” Jane asked looking around anxiously, but Darcy just grabbed her elbow and steered her towards the central city.

 

“Nah. I think we should try to stay in crowded places. Besides, if I’m not wrong I think we’re within spitting distance of where we want to go anyway. See that park, over there? I used to play there as a kid. If we make it through that one my aunt’s place is just around the corner.”

 

For a moment, they walked quietly, and then Jane exhaled audibly, and made a gurgling sound that could be mistaken for something like a laugh. “I can’t believe we did it.”

 

Darcy managed a grin. “Yeah, well, we’re awesome. Of course I never doubted for a second we could do it. And now move it, I really need something strong and I need to pee.”

 

* * *

 

 

_2271, New York, Stark Tower_

 

The meeting took place in the new lobby of Tony’s own penthouse in the tower. Of all the changes he had started to make to the tower, this room was the one with the major overhaul. Once all the changes would be in place, this room would be able to go into a total lockdown to make it impenetrable, and all the while being self-sustaining, so five people would be able to survive in this room for a total of 180 days.

 

He was also planning to hide at least three suits in this room, more if he could, though Pepper was driving a hard bargain to bring him down to one. But the feature that was already in place, and that made Pepper chose it for the meeting, was that it had best possible security to make it tab-proof. And that was mattered, for now. This was too important for someone to listen in on.

 

Pepper had her eyes closed for a second and inhaled deeply. But then she opened her eyes, and grabbed the plate with a number of cups and two cans of tea and carried them over to the seating area in the centre on the room. She wore a reassuring smile as she placed the tray, and then sat down on a armchair on the head of the table. She looked at the expectant faces, and for a moment she wishes all evil things to Director Fury. Tony should have been the one doing this, not her. She could handle meetings, and she could handle board members, but handle a bunch of suspicious superheroes wasn’t something she would have asked for.

 

Natasha, at least, she knew, and Bruce she knew well enough by now as well. Rhodey gave her a reassuring smile, but that was it as far as friendly faces went. Capatain – Steve… Mr. Rogers looked like he expected this to be some sort of trick. Agent Barton wore a – slightly bruised and worn – poker face. And those were only the people in this room with her.

 

Pepper reached for the tab next to the tray, and tapped in her security codes. Then, with a soft sliding motion across the screen, she called forth four floating screens. She nodded to all of them, and then she stood up, smoothing down her white skirt and clearing her throat once.

 

“Thank you everyone, for coming. Let me take a second to introduce you all, so we are all on the same page. This is Commander James Rhodes, current head of Star Fleet’s Eagle Squadron. And these are Agents Barton and Romanoff, Doctor Bruce Banner and Captain Rogers, who are all part of the recently formed Avengers Iniative.”

 

Then she proceeded to point slightly at the first screen. “This is Commander Spock, currently a Federation Ambassador. This is Commander Nyota Uhura, Head of Higher Starr Fleet Education. This is Doctor Leonard H. McCoy, former Chief Medical Officer on the USS Enterprise, and since retired to Georgia. This is Doctor Tobias Gilmore, molecular biologist of Star Fleet.”

 

She put her pad away, and put her hands together, trying to make eye contact with everyone at least once as she spoke. “We have not told most of you the reason for why we asked you to come. All everyone here knows so far as that S.H.I.E.L.D. is quite possibly a danger to humanity.”

 

“Uh, yes, what exactly is up with that? I don’t even work for Star Fleet anymore. Why are you dragging me into this, and why not Jim,” Doctor McCoy spoke up from his screen, and Pepper shot him a curt smile.

 

“You are all here because you either possess abilities or information that we could use, or because we trust you, and this has become something that we can’t shoulder on our own anymore.” Then she made an open gesture, towards some of the screens. “We, in this case, is myself, Tony – who can’t be here - Commander Uhura, Commander Spock and, by extension, Doctor Gilmore. I understand that some of this will be very hard to believe and to swallow, and whatever questions you have we will try to address. But for the moment, I ask of you to let us explain, and save your questions for afterwards. Is that alright with everyone?”

 

When nobody spoke up otherwise, Pepper was relieved, for a moment. She had been worried that Agent Barton and Romanoff might not be very open to hearing them – or that Captain Rogers would object. He had been so close to the people who once founded S.H.I.E.L.D., she had been worried that he would take it as a personal insult to them if they now questioned S.H.I.E.L.D. But as he only sat there, with his jaw set firmly and a very guarded expression, Pepper nodded to the screen floating on her left. “Uhura, would you like to…?”

 

Nyota nodded, once, and didn’t wait for Pepper to shift her projection so she would take Pepper’s place at the head of the table before she started. Her impatience was usually a sign of how tense she was, and this was no exception.

 

“Earth was attacked by subject known as ‘Khan’ in 2259.” As if on cue, Pepper projected an image of Khan, from the first Eugenic war, and then an image of his remodelled face. Nyota continued, and it was clear, that she and Pepper had spoken this through.

 

“I suspect that all of you are aware of the events of that attack. Khan had worked with the crew of the ship that Commander Spock and I were assigned to, the _USS Enterprise_. He revealed himself to Spock and Captain James Kirk, and he also revealed that the man behind his return from his exile was Admiral Marcus.” The image of Khan shifted into the face of the Admiral, and everyone fixed their attention on him, for a moment.

 

“What none of you will know, I believe, is that Marcus was spearheading a group known as Section 31. This group has a history that dates back long before the foundation of Star Fleet, and they are only loosely associated to it. They have also kept their existence a secret, just like S.H.I.E.L.D. After Admiral Marcus was brought down in the events of 2259, Section 31 was disbanded. Most of the people of that Section had been on the USS Vanguard, and died when the Ship was destroyed. The people that weren’t on the Vanguard were taken into custody by S.H.I.E.L.D. and put in prison. We assumed this chapter of Star Fleets history to be firmly closed.”

 

Yet again, the image shifted, this time bringing up a newspaper article of 2260, with a waving Kirk on the front page, in front of the memorial of the crash. “Before the USS Enterprise left for the five year mission in 2260, I was interested to look into where ‘Khan’ came from, out of personal reasons. Star Fleet has not been very forthcoming with information, and this particular subject was marked as classified – clearance level 9, above mine at the time being, and I suspect above most of your clearances as well. ”

 

For a second, her eyes lingered on Barton and Romanoff, but if neither of one made a move to object. Though it would surprise Nyota if they hadn’t a higher clearance level than nine. For that matter, she was very sure that Captain Rogers should have a higher clearance level as well. But the time that he was awake had probably not been enough for him to familiarize himself with the hierarchy of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

“Let me sidetrack for a moment. In 2264, S.H.I.E.L.D. started to look for Dr. Banner. It is, unsurprisingly, classified that they were looking for him, or why, but the fact that they were is very easy too prove, if necessary. And I believe Doctor Gilmore can actually confirm this information for me.”

 

Gilmore had slightly twitched at the mention of his name, but now he nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can. My fiancée at the time, Emma Sutherland, was on the team of Doctors who helped create a satellite that could scan for grammar radiation, to make his location… err… easier.”

 

Bruce’s face blanched at the mention of this, but he bit his lip and kept silent, so Nyota spoke on. “After the Enterprise returned to earth in 2265, I served as the earth ambassador in negotiating a peace treaty with the Klingons in 2267, who were target by Khan as well. They have a very personal interest in making sure that no one like Khan will re-emerge on earth, and I put forth my weight and my contacts. Before the treaty was signed I was given information by their own intelligence agency, and there were some activities pointed out to me that I confirmed as having not been in any official Star Fleet records, that proved that there was some activity that might be linked to Section 31. On the very least, it proved the story that Khan had told us to be undoubtedly true.”

 

At this, Spock cleared his throat, and Pepper moved his screen to take Nyota’s place. “Khan Noonien Singh revealed that he and several more Augments were in cryostasis in space, where Admiral Marcus apparently ‘found’ them.”

 

Nyota spoke up and interrupted him, ignoring his displeased expression. “Though we are still working on finding out if he happened to ‘find’ them or if he was actively ‘looking for’ them. We suspect the later, actually.”

 

“Indeed,” Spock murmured, for a moment visibly displeased, but Nyota actually smiled at him, so he seemed to shrug it off and resumed his speech. “Khan claimed that he was the only Augment revived by Khan, and that Marcus harnessed his brain, so to speak, to build weaponry, and new war ships for Star Fleet. He held the other augments, Khan’s crew, hostage, to pressure him into working for him. He created an alias of John Harrison, the man that was publicly claimed to be a terrorist and made responsible for the events of 2259. The data of the Klingons seem to prove that a Ship named USS Vanguard seemed to come across this ship. The Captain of that Ship was Admiral Fury, and members of his crew included Phil Coulson.”

 

Now, Nyota shifted, and started pacing, effortlessly taking over where Spock had stopped. The screen mirrored her every movement, which made it seem as if she was pacing up and down in the room. “The further I looked, the more I became aware of dead ends in my research. While most of them seemed to end within S.H.I.E.L.D., some were not. To say the least, I was frustrated, and I contacted Commander Spock to ask for his assistance.”

 

Again Spock took over from there. “It would be unnecessary to illustrate every step we took, but we breached several S.H.I.E.L.D. servers, looking for information the _USS Vanguard_ and the mission in which they found Khan. We also tried to locate where the ship was taken after that mission, and where they took Khan, and his crew after they initially found him – and after the attack of 2259. The data of the Kllingons did prove the existence of the USS Vanguard, but they also gave us information that there had been several more vessels on earth not authorized by Star Fleet. This gave us reason to believe that Section 31 had not been disbanded. At this point in our research, we agreed that we needed further assistance, and Commander Uhura made contact with Miss Potts, and by extension, Mr. Stark. Relying on Star Fleet servers seemed a needlessly risky endeavour at this point.”

 

Now Pepper stood up again, with a nod to Spock, and continued. “We did look into some things, and we found footage and readings concerning the Star Fleet base in London. They proved that Khan had probably been in that base for several months, before his signature seemed to have disappeared. The building was the Kelvin Memorial Archive.” The holographic picture in the middle of the room shifted into this.

 

“Commander Coulson worked here from 2257 to 2259. We believe that before the events of 2259 this was where Section 31 operated on earth. The base was blown up in 2259, so we reached a temporary dead end in our research, on what Section 31 was doing, and if they had another base of operation.”

 

Pepper nodded to Nyota, who took over again, having stopped her pacing by now. “At this point, we were… contacted. We have very, very limited information on who it was that contacted us. Our research must have alerted someone who was waiting for us, that’s the only explanation we have so far. Someone noted that we were looking into section 31.”

 

It was more than clear that Uhura was pretty much pissed at this. She was pressing her teeth tightly together during the last sentence, and it took her visible effort to calm herself again. “We cannot say for sure what it was. Mr. Stark is up till now working on retracing everything, and has not figured it out. We received a data package with that first and only contact, and the person let us know that they are a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D, and have been so for some time.”

 

At this, Pepper discreetly touched the screen of her pad, and projected forth several more screens, to float in the centre of the room. The sheer number was overwhelming, and it seemed to contain all sorts of information – pictures, video, audio, text, numbers, charts.

 

Then Pepper moved her middle finger and her thumb together, and most of the pictures shut down. She pulled forth one and enlarged it, so the groups attention was focused on this one. A picture of Steve was on the screen. Then one of Khan. One of Phil Coulson. And one of James Kirk. Some smaller pictures of faces appeared all around them, like a chess board of faces, with every other image just a box of floating black.

 

“The most important information that was given to us was that S.H.I.E.L.D. has been working on a reboot of the augmentation program, and it was started in 2259. We suspect it might draw upon the work of section 31, which simply must have fallen into the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D. somehow.”

 

Pepper closed the pictures again, and called forth a new file. “You saw how much we got in that single package. We haven’t decoded even half of that yet, and we’re pressing every button here. What we do know is that S.H.I.E.L.D., or someone working with S.H.I.E.L.D, is working on creating a new serum, similar to the one used on you, Captain Rogers, from Khan’s blood. We only have numbers on most so far, and not names, but SHIELD is currently in possession of close to eighty units that are to be considered augmented.”

 

They all heard it when Steve Rogers inhaled sharply. They also all heard Romanoff’s mutters in Russian, which at least Nyota could identify as a curse. With a small gesture of impatience to Pepper, she took over again, with a grim expression and Pepper let her.

 

“Captain Kirk had been exposed to the blood, as was Commander Coulson, that much we know. And some properties of the serum seem to work within the blood, as Kirk was brought back by it, when Doctor McCoy administered it to him in 2259 in an emergency situation.”

 

At this, Nyota paused, and looked at McCoy. That man wore a remarkably sullen expression, and just looked back to her. Then, when he noted that she was letting the silence stretch, he frowned. “What? He would have died. I was trying something stupid. Do you want me to apologize, or something?”

 

Nyota rolled her eyes. “No, I’d just like you to _confirm_ that.”

 

“Well, yeah, _obviously_ , or I would have said something, wouldn’t I.”

 

For a moment it seemed as if Nyota would answer equally annoyed, but before she could, Spock spoke up again. “He is among the numbers, but he is not counted as a full augmentation, from what we gather. What we also know for a fact by now is that Commander Coulson was administered a vial of Khan’s blood as well. The files don’t give us any information the how or when or why, but, he is not considered an augmentation either, so it is possible that it was an accident. Thanks to this he survived the attack of 2259 and apparently, the attack of Manhatten. Commander Coulson is not, as the official files state, dead.”

 

Tony had reacted strongly to it, when they had found that out, but most of the people in the room seemed to have a better grip on themselves. Though Agent Barton did slam the cup of coffee that Pepper had handed him upon his arrival hard on the surface of the glass table.

 

“They are also all marked as ‘inactive’ in the files, so they seem to work like sleeper cells. But they are marked for a Project called Phoenix, which contains something that can only be interpreted as plans for a war situation. This seems to have been vetoed once before, but now that earth has been under attack from Loki, it seems that almost all requirements of Project Phoenix are met. The fact that they seem to have been looking into Doctor Banner’s research seems like additional prove to us.”

 

Now Pepper spoke up again, pointing at Dr. Gilmore. “Thanks to the files we were able to find and contact Dr. Gilmore here. He was marked as a member of the original research project, but he was let go in the events of 2259. Would you please explain your story shortly?”

 

Gilmore nodded. “I was a scientist working for SHIELD, or that’s what… I believed. I was really career driven, and without ringing my own bells, or something, I as kind of good in the field. I didn’t look too closely on whom I was working for, or why, as long as it was outstanding and-“

 

“I said shortly, please.”

 

“Oh. Yes. Right. In 2258, my medical team was spearheaded by Doctor Carter-Hampton,..” at that he paused, and looked at Steve Rogers. “Uhh, yeah. Deborah Carter-Hampton, to be precise. Wonderful, brilliant Doctor. Really. A genius on her field. They, uhm, say that you and her mother Margaret Carter, worked closely during the war, I believe, … Captain America… Captain Rogers?”

 

Steve had formerly listened to everything with a quiet, but steadily darkening expression. Now, though, he seemed to be shaken out his resolved bitterness. He looked at Gilmore with an expression of surprise, but nodded. “Yes. Peggy. I wasn’t aware that she had a daughter.”

 

It was ridiculously obvious that Gilmore wasn’t handling being addressed by Captain America very well, because he looked pretty much star struck, but Nyota really didn’t have the nerve for any more interruptions. “Is this somehow integral to your story, _Doctor_?”

 

“Oh, no, not exactly. It was just… I though he might like to know. Err. Where was I? Oh, yes. Right. So, Dr. Carter-Hampton lead our team, and we were specialised in physical and mental recalibration of a body and the mind. Me and my fiancée, Emma Sutherland, I mentioned her before, we worked with her on a patient known to us as Patient 73, or later as John Harrison. Though Emma and Debby – Dr. Carter – well, _they_ knew that he really was Khan. Emma was working with Dr. Carter-Hampton on creating the false memories, so I guess it made sense that Emma had to know. I didn’t know it, back then, really, because my forte was the physical changes. It was to me just this huge honour and this really extraordinary project. We created an entirely new facial structure for him, and an entire new back-story and life. We practically created the guy.”

 

For a moment, Gilmore licked his lips, before he pushed a hand through his hair, grey at the temples, and adjusted his glasses. His eyes shot through the room, and the pride and the excitement that had been on his face drained from it a bit, as he noted that the look Agent Romanoff was giving him. It made his blood run cold in his veins and he swallowed, hectically looking somewhere else.

 

Then he continued. “In 2258, our work was pretty much finished, and we had succeeded. Admiral Marcus actually came to congratulate us in person, and it was a pretty big deal. From what I know there were other people that we tried this whole ordeal on. I only had part in John Harrison and Patient 56 and 38, so I can’t be sure how many more were there. But Patient 73 was the first successful attempt. So all there was left to do was wake him, and then supervise him when he came for weekly checkups. We pretty much just-”

 

“Come to the point, please,” Nyota said. She had started pacing again.

 

“Of course. Uhm, during 2258, Doctor Carter-Hampton was taken off of the case. She implied that it was due to personal differences between her and Admiral Marcus on the case. And … not much after that, there was the crash of a spaceship, and we heard that apparently Doctor Carter-Hampton was on it, and dead. Emma, my fiancée, took over Deborah’s position half a year later. I, uhh, wanted the position as well, so due to differences between me and Admiral Marucs I was let go. And then things became… strange. In 2264 she got the job offer by Doctor Reinstein, though we know now that he was Doctor Erskine, actually.” Again, his eyes flickered to Steve Rogers, but this time he restrained himself.

 

“Long story short, the job changed her, and a year later we broke off our engagement. But when Commander Uhura contacted me, it made things… a bit clearer. I wasn’t the nicest person in my youth, you know, but I deeply respected Doctor Carter, and to know that… that we were the ones who helped create this … _monster_ ….” Gilmore visibly shuddered. “So we tried to find Emma, because I thought she could help with this. She always knew more about Doctor Carter’s research than I did, but she seems to have… vanished. We can’t locate her, and… hell, one of our group is already dead, I really don’t want Emma or me to be next.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor Gilmore, I think that gave everyone a better insight on the proceedings of Section 31.” Even Pepper, who had more patience than Nyota had, decided that this was enough of the doctor’s point of view on these things. To be honest, she didn’t really like this Doctor Gilmore very much, and she had the underlying suspicion that he was only helping them out of selfish, vain reasons. It was an open secret that his research had reached a dead end several years ago, and that he wasn’t exactly a much sought out scientist in his community, due to his, as he had put it so nicely ‘not being a nice guy in his youth’. It made her wonder what this Doctor Sutherland would be like, to have been engaged to this guy.

 

Spock spoke up now, with a grave expression. “What we need to do is to locate our source. If they truly are a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D., we need to see if we can get them out. We need to find out as much as we can about Project Phoenix, too, and what we are up against. Our overarching goal is to find – and end – Section 31. And, if we find that this means that we will need to end S.H.I.E.L.D. as well, we are prepared to do this as well. If you have questions or concerns, voice them now. Otherwise, this is the time where we need to know if you are willing to join us in this – or not.”

 

For a moment, it seemed that no one wanted to be the first to speak. Bruce had his glasses pulled down and his eyes closed, and was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He seemed drained, and resigned. Natasha and Clint were maintaining very intense eyecontact, and communicating wordlessly, with just minor signs. Steve had let his eyes fall into his neck, and stared at the ceiling, his jaw moving, like he was still chewing on everything.

 

But then it was Doctor McCoy who spoke first. “Yes, uhm. Okay. Great story. But I still have to repeat myself. Why am I here, if you already have two Doctors. And why isn’t Jim here. This kind of concerns him, doesn’t it?”

 

It seemed apt that Spock was the one who took that question, as he was the one who had not only decided against bringing in Jim, but also, actually suggested that they ask Doctor McCoy to join them. “First, the question of the Captain’s involevement. Two reasons. One being, that S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to monitor him. It would be significantly harder to undergo this operation unnoticed if one of the groups members is a subject of interest. Secondly, Carol is expected to deliver their first child within the next week. If we involve one of them, we should involve both, and I’ve made inquiries. The pregnancy is not going smooth, and I’d rather not risk the life of an unborn child if it isn’t absolutely necessary.”

 

“Fine, fine. Okay. Yeah, I heard about that pregnancy. But what if the child is affected by Khan’s miracle blood somehow? It’s obviously not working like normal blood, or it couldn’t have saved Jim, so who of you wants to be responsible if there’s something off with that kid?”

 

“Uhm,” Nyota spoke up, her eyebrows raised, “… that would happen to be _you,_ in the first place, as _you_ administered that first vial to Jim, in case you haven’t forgotten. And if you decide to help us, you would work together with Doctor Banner and Doctor Gilmore to find out everything you can about the properties of that blood. Specifically, if we could be able to locate those augments.”

 

McCoy had his arms crossed and looked angry at Nyota, his fingers drumming on his upper arms. Then, suddenly, he threw them up and turned away from the screen. “Fine. _Fine_! But it’s on _you_ guys to explain this to Jim. And you have to figure out a way to get me to New York.” He turned back to the screen. “Because _I_ was living a happy life as a country doctor with a Trill Olympic Gymnast here.” He rubbed one of his hands across his face. “God, Emony will be _so_ pissed.”

 

Pepper tried a smile. “You are more than welcome to bring your significant other to New York with you, and I will make sure that a hotel reservation and plane tickets will be ready for the next flight in the morning. Thank you for your help, Doctor McCoy.”

 

“Tomorrow?” McCoy’s voice was full of incredulity. “Oh, yes, _perfect_. She’s going to shoot me. I need to hang up and hide all the guns in the house. See you.” And indeed, his screen shut down.

 

Pepper couldn’t help but shoot Nyota look. He had reacted exactly as Nyota had predicted. But then again, she had been in space for five years with that man, so that probably made you know your fellow crewmembers very well.

 

In the moment of silence, Rhodey stood up. “Well, Tony pretty much told me all of this already, and I am in, as much as I can. You know that Star Fleet is keeping me busy pretty much. This means that I need to go now.” He came over to Pepper, and kissed her cheek, mumbling a ‘well done’ in her ear. He nodded towards everyone else, before he headed for the elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind him, Pepper turned back to the other people in the room.

 

“I am aboard,” Bruce spoke up now. He didn’t look at anyway, just at the glasses in his hands. But he looked as if the past minutes had aged him significantly. “If S.H.I.E.L.D. or that section are indeed looking into my research, it is my responsibility.”

 

For a moment, Pepper considered reaching out to Bruce, but she wasn’t sure if he would appreciate that, so she just nodded. “Thank you, Bruce.” Then she looked around. Agent Romanoff and Barton had stopped signing, and Natasha made eye contact with Pepper.

 

“Why us. I understand that all of the Avengers were asked to join, as it would seem, but what made you think that neither Agent Barton nor I would be part of S.H.I.E.L.D.S work on Project Phoenix, or Part of Section 31. It seems like you took a needless risk in this.”

 

Pepper hestitated to answer this. Truth be told, Tony had been concerned with this point. But she also knew that she couldn’t possibly hope to fool either of those agents. So she decided to settle for the truth. “We are taking a risk here. We have not been able to break all of the coding, so we only know for sure that neither of you is involved in any of the things that we did decode. However, Commander Spock here is a Vulcan, and very apt at telling when a person lies. He was on the USS Icarus, partially to asses the two of you. And he was sure that neither of you was informed on the fact that Agent Coulson lived. Were you involved in any work relating to Project Phoenix, you would have known that he wasn’t dead. That is all that we could go on. And, as you said. You are part of the Avengers Initiative. The initiave cannot work if some members were to be forced to keep this a secret from the others.”

Natasha nodded to this, and was processing this piece of information, though she didn’t offer anything more. Pepper decided to speak on.

 

“Our main concern was how you would react, Captain Rogers.”

 

At this, the Captain stopped stairing at the ceiling, and looked at her directly. Strange, how she only noticed now the vivid blue colour of his eyes. “Why? Because it’s about the Augmentation? About Super Soldiers?”

 

“No,” Pepper shook her head slightly, holding his gaze. “Because people dear to you helped found S.H.I.E.L.D. after the great eugenic war, to protect earth. And we are asking you to distrust and go up against their legacy.”

 

Steve nodded, with a frown, but then he shook his head only a heartbeat later. “You forget that it were the same group of people that were involved in creating me and my kind in the first place. It just seemed that now, one or two generations later, they are repeating old mistakes.” He fell silent again, then he suddenly stood up, breaking the eyecontact. He was looking out of the window-front of the lobby. “I never thought that I would be disappointed to find that the world hasn’t changed as much as I hoped it would.” He pushed back some of the hair in his face. “Alright. Yes. I join you. If I can help, I will.”

 

Natasha, too stood up, gazing at her watch. “Agent Barton, Captain Rogers and I are needed back at S.H.I.E.L.D. for a meeting soon.” Then she looked at Pepper, resolve on her face. “I need to conduct my own research first. I would validate some information first, before I agree to anything. Up till then, I will not inform anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. of what was talked about here. That is the best I can offer.”

 

Pepper nodded, looking at Agent Barton. He had his hands in his pocket, as he, too, stood up. He shrugged. “I’d say that goes for me as well. What about Thor? Did you manage to talk to him about this as well, before he left?”

 

Nyota shook her head. “Not for a want of trying, though, but he was never unsupervised. It was hard enough to catch the right moment to contact you guys, but Thor does not even carry a phone. If he returns, though, we will certainly ask him to join us as well. As Pepper said, we want the whole Initiative on this.”

 

Barton nodded. “Well, then. You’ll hear from us.” When he headed to the elevators, Romanoff and Rogers followed. With some mumbling, Gilmore shut down his screen, and Nyota and Spock, too, said that they would call in later again. That left Pepper with Bruce.

 

For a moment, Pepper remained standing. Then she let herself fall down unto her chair, closing her eyes and pressing both of her hands over her face. The sound of liquid made her lower her hands enough so she could look at Bruce. He was pouring the untouched tea on the table into two cups. Wordlessly, he held one out for her. Pepper only managed a weak smile.

 

 

* * *

 

_2271, London_

 

They were both wrapped in tasteful blankets, and Jane had found a bottle of whiskey, and had poured them some on tow mugs. Now Darcy had found her way into Aminah’s pad. Breaking into her aunts apartment had been pretty easy – because even though she should know better, Maria always had had a set number of security codes that she used, and Darcy knew pretty much all of them. So she had just tried some, and the third one had done the charm and opened the door for them.

 

Aminah was more careful, so weaselling her way into the pad had been harder. But it would be dumb to use the pad they stole from that group. Now all that was left to do was to contact someone, who could help them. So her and Jane huddled close enough, when Aminah’s face popped up on screen.

 

“Uh oh, “ Darcy muttered, as she noted that Aminah was in full-fledged Star Fleet gear. She was still at work. Then, Darcy coughed. “Uh, hi Aminah.”

 

Aminah stared at her, for a moment, disbelieving. “What the… Darcy. Are you in my apartment?”

 

Darcy grinned sheepishly. Before she could reply though, she was pretty surprised to find that her aunt’s boss-man, The Eyepatch, was shoving his head in front of the screen. “Lewis, Doctor Foster. Who else is with you.”

 

It was almost pleasing to see Aminah subtly shove the dude away, and just stretch the projected zoom, so both of them fitted on the screen. Just her luck to call her aunt while she was at work. And – why the hell did that dude even ask that? “We are alone. But not the point. We have.. kind of been… well, not abducted, technically, because we came voluntarily. Jane was offered a science job, and then they didn’t want us to leave again. So I hacked them, and –“

 

“You what?” The Eyepatch rudely interrupted them. Darcy scowled.

 

“Yes, well, _not the point_. We were locked away, okay, and they didn’t let us leave. We found out that they’re some group named S.H.I.E.L.D., and that Sitwell dude was really creepy, but we managed to break out and now we really could use some help to get back to Frisco, okay. Like, soon-ish, if possible.”

 

“Sitwell,” the dude echoes, and Darcy found that it was really frustrating that he seemed to always latch himself on the non-important parts of what she said. She had only met him a handful of times, as a kid, and once or twice as teenager, but the fact that he was so dense had somehow escaped her notice so far.

 

Apparently, Aminah also had no patience for her boss, though the look she shot him now was very heavy on subtext that Darcy couldn’t read. When she looked back to the screen, though, she gave Darcy a grim smile. “Good job. Stay at my apartment, I am sending someone over with a jet as we speak.”

 

At that, the dude seemed to have his shit together, because he spoke up again. “No. You will go there personally, and take a team of five. I will head back to the Headquaters and meet up with Agent Hill. If Sitwell is a part of this I can’t risk involving Stark, so send him back to New York as well.”

 

Aminah nodded. “Aye, sir.” She watched, as The Eyepatch left the room, shouting out orders at someone Darcy couldn’t see, before Aminah turned back to them, having clearly started walking herself. “And we’ll talk about this hacking and breaking in when I’m with you. What are they teaching you kids in the academy these days.”

 

Darcy grinned, and wordlessly broke the connection. Thank fuck they didn’t need to continue saving themselves back to America. She looked at Jane. “More whiskey?”

 

“Oh yes.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN
> 
> Whew, so that’s that. That meeting was a touch cookie to write, because I had to check some of my facts, as not to get anything wrong. Most of that was planned out to happen almost a year ago. Huh.
> 
> \- I just wanted to say something on the topic of how Khan speaks. I saw that movie again recently and again noted how much he speaks like what he calls himself – a relict of the past. Or like some Sun Tsu book. So that’s what’s up with the fancy warrior talk in the beginning. I hope it didn’t come off too cheesy.
> 
> \- The ‘he’ that Loki hints at is, obviously, Thanos. I’m with that group of people who are pretty sure that Loki was under some form of brainwashing himself. It’s not meant to be apologetic, or redeem him, or turn the shit he pulled into a sob story. It’s just a fact, to me.
> 
> \- Yes, I know. Sitwell. The temptation to give him a greater role in this whole scheme was to big, you guys. Expect to be seeing some more of him.
> 
> \- Darcy’s and Jane’s scene here is a hint at the scene in the comics, where S.H.I.E.L.D. actually takes them to Norway so they won’t get tangled into the things in Manhattan. Only… very different.
> 
> \- The thing about the air-vents simply had to go in there. I know, it’s Darcy being genre-savvy and all, and I don’t even mind that trope terribly much, but you have to give SHIELD some credit. I doubt they make them large and sound-proof just for their agents to have some fun in there.
> 
> \- Also, when Darcy renders that dude unconscious? I read up on how that could be achieved. It seems to be a way that would actually work. Just know that this could potentially kill someone. And there could be lasting damage. It’s not a nice-and-safe way of knocking someone out. And, on that note, if you felt reminded of the wonderful Agent Carter and her fighting style, then yes’sir, that’s what I was going for. 
> 
> \- Err, just in case you guys don't actually remember that, but Gilmore and Sutherland were in that first chapter. They're created by me, so you don't have to know 'em. Just thought i'll mention it again.
> 
> \- Ah, and the mention of that Olympic gymnast that Bones is with? Kinda canon. Emony is the third host of the Dax symbiont, who later joins up with Jadzia and Ezri of DS9. She was, indeed, on earth, and kind of involved with Bones before he became a doctor and worked for star fleet. And she was an olympic gymnast. But as he canonically retired from Star Fleet for some time after that five year mission, I figured – hey, why not? Nobody said for a fact that they couldn’t have gotten back together some time later. It’s improbable, but it’s a crossover, and I like DS9, so I couldn’t pass up on the chance to bring in a character-by-extension of that series.

**Author's Note:**

> AN:  
> Hi there, people! This is me reposting this story. It is on fanfiction.net by the same name, I'm just moving it here now after I just finished the damn fourth chapter. Anyway. The ANs up to Chapter 3 will just be copied, I don't have anything to add. They're lengthy, though. You have been warned.  
> 1) It is un-beta-ed. I don't have the time at the moment to send things back and forth between me and a beta. Sorry for all errors.  
> 2) This should meddle with the 'Into Darkness'!Plot and Timeline in the smallest way possible. I'll just try and add a bit of MCU to it - again, in the least meddlesome way possible. However, I might have to stray from the established Alternative Universe Timeline that has been set up for the two new movies. But we'll come to that bridge when we cross it.  
> 3) Yes, it'll be DarcyxKhan. I don't know about any side-pairings yet. I also don't know how 'romantic' it'll all turn. The first two chapters won't have much of either character in it. They're basically there to establish the setting - because there's a remarkable lot of potential plot points for a Star Trek and MCU Crossover. I can, however, assure you: there won't be any romance between child!Darcy and grown-up!Khan. Just nope. So don't worry about that.  
> 4) In the future, there will be brainwashing and character-death. Any other Warnings will be added as I go along.  
> 5) I'm basing my knowledge of pre-movie Events in the Star Trek fandom purely on my research in various wikis and forums that have gathered everything they found on what the producers or comics explained to have happened. I am, among other things, referring to how they explained the white-washing of the characters.  
> 6) And now for the fun things: This was first published in parts on tumblr, based on the prompt the wonderful 'barnebucky' send me after we simultaneously fangasmed over the equally wonderfull 'usedkarma' posted a fanart on this pairing, that shall be henceforth called 'AugmentTaser'. And the wonderful 'usedkarma' also gave me the cover for this story as a gift. I would strongly suggest you run over to tumblr and fill both of those amazing people's inboxes with love.  
> 7) Yes, the title is a bit uncreative. I'm sorry.


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